Having It All (12 page)
“I suppose a few farmers may use it or some version of it, but think about it. If you sold or have financial interests in oil, gas or coal for home heating, would you want people to switch to manure? You’d spend a lot of money keeping the lid on that sort of invention, wouldn’t you?”
“I guess. How does it work?”
“Shit,” said Max, sounding disgusted. “You just dump in animal waste and the chemical reaction creates a lot of heat and gas. You vent the gases to another type of heater that burns the methane and the rest goes up the chimney with the stink. Ever see a manure heap outside in the winter? It never has any snow on it because it’s too warm. The internal temperature can get really hot and that’s how you get fires sometimes in farm buildings like this.”
“Simultaneous commotion,” Katy said laughing as Max removed the last rope from her hands behind her bare back. She sat up on the dusty, dry dirt floor, apparently unaffected by the cold or the dirt.
“Yeah, right, spontaneous combustion, but you knew that,” Max said. He was thoughtful for a moment and then added, “So how would you like it tonight? Any ideas? I have work to do and would probably get back here around daybreak, but I’ll radio the house and let them know you’re here. Okay?”
“How’s your shibari, your Japanese rope work, Max,” Katy asked, serious now.
“Oh pretty fair. But I haven’t got time to give you a full treatment. How about a nice body suspension with, ah, some of that jute rope over there?” He pointed his flashlight at a set of neat coils of a brown, natural looking rope, hanging on hooks on the wall.
“Super. It even looks authentic,” said Katy, getting up and examining the rope coils.
“Might be. It’s the right length and diameter, six to eight millimeters, and, as specified, its jute, not hemp,” Max said, revealing that he was at least as well informed about shibari/kinbaku as Katy. “Okay, hands behind you first, palms to elbows.”
Katy complied and Max quickly and efficiently bound her with her forearms parallel, palms facing outward and wrists fastened to biceps. Then he roped her upper arms again and wrapped these coils around her upper body, above and below her breasts, adding cinches under each arm, completing tight, stylized binding of not only her arms, but her breasts as well.
“Ohhhh,” crooned Katy, “that’s nice. For someone who said he was only fair, you seem to know the Jap rope technique pretty well.”
“You’ll see,” said Max, wrapping more coils around Katy’s narrow waist and testing for tightness before he added the requisite crotch rope and pulled it tight through her pussy. Katy groaned and almost fell over from the effects.
“Step over here please,” Max invited. “I figured this was what was going to happen, so I have two or three nice, sturdy suspension ropes already attached to pulleys on the beams on the second floor.” He attached one hanging rope to the mass of line already around Katy’s upper body. Then he had her lie back down on the floor while he roped her upper and lower legs in a special combination tie so that when he attached the second hanging line, it would lift her balanced, bound body horizontally. The third suspension rope went to her crotch rope and was pulled slightly tighter than the rest. It had the obvious effect but also helped to keep her from swinging.
“You want a gag?” he asked, knowing full well that the question was rhetorical. Katy nodded, feeling the dry dust and dirt under her body and almost wallowing in it as Max tightened the ropes around her ankles and pulled them backward to connect with those around her arms and chest. Thus hogtied and tightly secured, Katy was hoisted off the floor to about eye level with Max; then he tied off the lifting ropes and set about gagging his cooperative young prisoner.
“Any last words?” he asked, seemingly serious.
“Yes, asshole. Fuck you. You can’t get away with this. I’ll get even with you,” Katy spat, twisting and wiggling strenuously in the ropes. As she pulled and stretched the torso and leg ropes, she consciously tightened the center one attached to her crotch and it had the desired, erotic effect.
“Ohhhh,” said Max, taking a moment to realize that Katy was already deep into her fantasy and was reacting to Max’s question as she might if the whole thing had been involuntary and she was about to be hung up and punished by her vicious captor.
“Here, Sweet stuff. Chew on this for awhile,” Max said in the spirit of the game as he shoved a combination leather bit and gag plug into the waiting open mouth. He pulled the bit back, fastened the straps behind her head and forced Katy’s jaws open wider. Her cheeks wrinkled up and they were stretched to their maximum as the bit was pulled back to her molars. The plug on the bit filled her mouth and she was now, suddenly, quite silent, but still wiggling and bouncing in the ropes.
Max attached a short length of rope to the back of the gag strap and, pulling it back, caused Katy’s blond head to angle back as well so that she was now staring at the far end of the barn’s main gallery, looking at the snow covered windows sixty feet away. She blinked her eyes once or twice, wagged one hand at Max, murmured something quietly and seemed to fall asleep.
Max checked the suspension once again and headed for the exit door. “See you in a couple of hours, Katy. Enjoy…..Oh,” he added as an afterthought, “you may have company, but I don’t think she’ll bother you. Bye.”
The door closed, she heard the snow cat rev up and then it was gone and the silence of the old barn engulfed her.
Katy wiggled, testing the ropes and listening to the pulleys creak and squeak high overhead. She wondered what Max meant about having company, but assumed he was talking about raccoons or mice that probably lived in the barn. A little rodent company won’t hurt, she thought. She was not frightened by such a possibility and soon went back to wondering idly if, as in another barn a few years before, she was going to end up having committed to too much for her own personal bondage pleasure. But those thoughts faded as she experienced wonderful warmth spreading from her breasts and crotch and further up her bound body. She was getting exactly what she wanted and Katy was a happy camper.
In the basement of the same barn, Donna was getting more anxious by the moment because she heard the noises on the floor above her and wondered if someone, anyone was coming to release her. She had been in this position for what seemed like days, even though she realized that it was probably more like a few hours, but she was getting stiff and tired and wanted either additional sexual relief or physical change in her position. No wonder. Donna was suspended, not like Katy on the floor above, but in and on a contraption that presented her smooth round ass to anyone who cared to use it and her tits to anyone or anything that wanted to service or abuse them from below. Donna’s body was strapped to an iron X frame that held her arms and legs out at strict ninety degree angles from her body. Strong leather straps encircled her waist, chest below and above her abundant hanging breasts, her neck, thighs in two places, calves twice and her ankles. She could and did wiggle her fingers and toes, but not much else because of the strict bondage. She wore not a normal bondage hood, but what was called a punishment helmet, which was much more strict and confining. The breathing holes in the front of the helmet were very small and Donna had to concentrate on not exerting her/himself too much because of the limited air supply through the holes. The gag was simply a four inch long leather cylinder that was rammed all the way back to his tonsils, engaging the gag reflex in people who hadn’t figured out and been trained in how to cope with it. She made no noise because it hurt to exercise her vocal cords which were only a very short distance from the end of the cylinder gag. The helmet was locked by eight different padlocks that held the strap that went under her chin and up the sides of the hood, pulled the gag retainer strap back and forced the cylinder deeper into her mouth and of course, closed and sealed the back lacing, zippers and collar.
Donna enjoyed the brutality of the punishment helmet, but at this point in the session, he/she wanted out. Being strapped horizontally to the iron cross didn’t help matters. The cross was suspended from the overhead beams of the cellar by sturdy chains and could be raised or lowered by electric hoists. Donna had been placed on the cross frame by two of her devilish fellow guests, Purple and Yellow, after they had drawn straws to decide who was to be crucified on the iron cross. Donna/Don had drawn the short straw and the other two had delighted in making sure that he/she got the full measure.
At the moment, the two girls were quietly camped in the apartment that Max had referred to, drinking a nice chardonnay and staying toasty warm by the small but very efficient heating stove. They had brought their sleeping bags and pillows when Frank drove the three out to the barn in the early afternoon with strict instructions about conduct and safety. Every hour or so, they checked on Donna and one or both of them ravaged him/her in some sexual way. Purple had used her favorite strap-on and delightedly rammed the seven incher into Donna’s exposed and enticingly tight ass earlier. The reason this strap-on dick pleased her so much was because it was a double ended dildo and she made sure that she got more than the recipient when it came to pleasure from the engagement. Donna moaned and groaned and asked for more and Purple had been forthcoming, stopping only long enough to pull out and go get Yellow to lie beneath the couple and flog the daylights out of Donna’s hanging tits. The three made a fun group and Donna was now hoping for a chance to reciprocate the favor in the near future. She was glad she was, for the moment, a girl, and enjoying the gender transformation as much as ever. In a week or so though, she knew that Don would have to fly to a distant city and work as himself so that he could continue to afford Donna and her lifestyle.
While Max made his rounds, Frank and Patty were having a conversation.
“So,” said Frank. “Now that we have all this stuff here, let’s be creative, shall we, Pat?”
Brought up from of her tiny cage in the basement for her daily maintenance, Patty sparkled. She was bathed, shaved or waxed in critical parts, fed and given a toilet break. It was Frank’s day to care for her, so he was making the best of it and Patty was, as usual, not cooperating. She was being a bitch and Frank was tired of it all, so he decided that instead of her usual restraints of manacles and shackles joined to a central chain and collar, she would get something more restrictive for the next 24 hours.
He took a long length of heavy, welded steel chain designed to anchor boats in rough seas and divided it into two equal lengths. He made a loop at one end around both of Patty’s ankles, then removed it and slid a one inch steel ring over the doubled chain, making a loop and slipping that over Patty’s left ankle. Then he took the short end of chain, placed it around the right ankle, brought it back through the ring and locked the loop, leaving no slack. What he had done was create a single loop around both ankles, cinched in the center by the steel ring. The ring functioned as a cinch of the snug chain loop and secured both ankles close together without any chance of coming off or stretching like rope would. At the same time, this method of bondage, Ellen and Frank had noted, allowed a certain amount of slack and limited movement without the close contact and weight of locked cuffs. He followed up the ankle binding with similar ring-cinched loops above and below the knees. The chain then was wrapped twice around her waist and locked, then bound above and below her breasts with a cinch ring in the cleavage, connected to the padded steel collar and then trailed out behind her for eventual securing to the wall, floor or overhead.
Patty yelled and screamed, even with the tongue gag in place, so Frank pulled her tongue out further, packed her mouth with wet strips of cloth and then reattached the tongue dowel in place without having to remove the tight wire net around Patty’s head. The howling stopped. Frank picked up his chain wrapped bundle, propped her against the wall and secured the chain end to rings set at intervals along the wall, from floor to ceiling. Patty hung there like a freshly smoked ham, wrapped in chains, gagged and hooded. It was just another night for her, but her hosts were busy elsewhere.
Chapter Nine
Group Therapy
The concept, as Ellen and Frank described it, was sound enough. A group of BDSM devotees with similar interests would gather and share their experiences. That was the idea. In practice and to some of the participants, it was at times more like a trial in which they had no say.
The group met in the huge underground room that was reserved for F&E’s special events and personal activities. This was the room with the steel tripod that was used to suspend the body bags. At other times it had other uses. For example, for this meeting of the group, the tripod was raised to a greater height so that a person of normal stature could stand under the apex of the structure, have their arms fully raised and be lifted off the floor. That was how Betty Lee Kim was using the tripod at this moment, the pretty, petite Asian, who was usually the occupant of the Yellow Room, hung by her wrists from the tripod’s center hoist. Her tiny feet and toes were six inches above the floor, so all of her weight was being supported by her wrists, which were tightly bound in padded leather suspension cuffs, which were quite different from ordinary cuffs. The design of the suspension cuffs was such that the hanging body’s weight was not applied to the circumference of the wrist, but rather to the entire limb, making it safer, easier and more comfortable for long periods of suspension. Her ankles were cuffed with ordinary steel shackles which were attached to two different legs of the tripod and a 1.2 meter long metal spreader bar connected the shackles, making any lateral change in the position of her legs quite impossible.
