YPA: Your Privacy Assured/YPA.ISO/text/bondag1.txt

Text File | 1995-01-04 | 14KB | 408 lines

                                New Girl inn Town

                                       BY
                                  L J J Hanson
                                  ------------
                                 Copyright 1989

PROLOGUE

       He was watching her the day the strangers moved into the old McNeely

house.  It was a large, rambling house: Mr. McNeely had spent a lifetime

adding onto the old house until it looked like a strange hodgepodge of

strangley connected rooms.  Others in the neighborhood thought Mr. McNeely was

a strange, evil man.  He was a loner, but he had been my best friend.  My

mother couldn't understand what a nineteen year old boy could have in common

with a decrepit 53 year old man.  A man, who by the looks of it, never went to

work.  To me, though, he had been my teacher...I was his apprentice and he

taught me some very intense things.  More about what he taught me later.  For

now, let me tell you about the new girl that was moving in.

       I was looking through my front window, so I couldn't get a really good

look.  But she looked pretty hot.  My guess was that she was about 18 or 19

years old.  She had dark, red hair that fell down in loose curls to her

shoulders.  She looked like she was a little tall for her age, but she didn't

look too thin.  In fact, the more I looked, the more I liked. She was wearing

a tight pair of running shorts and a Hard Rock t-shirt.  She seemed to have a

pretty nice set of tits - at least a pair of 36D's.  Pretty nice set of tits

for such a young looking face.  Nice round, little ass.  I could see her hot

asscheeks pouring through the extremely tight shorts, and you could tell that

those shorts wouldn't last too much longer: this girl was still growing - in

all the right places.

        I couldn't stop staring at her.  But it would only be a matter of time

until somebody notices me, I thought.  It was then that I resolved that I

would get to know this sweet, young babe very intimately - and she would do

nothing to stop me.  I started making plans.





CHAPTER ONE





        My goal was clear and direct: I needed to have her under my firm

control.  You see, I'm a curious kind of guy, and there was something about

this girl that intrigued me.  Maybe it was just those tits, or that ass, but I

knew that I could not sleep well until I had my chance to check her out

completely.  And the way I explore is seldom appreciated by the subject, so a

truly thorough job requires severe restraint to control the girl.

        Al McNeely was the man who showed me how to solve these kind of

problems.  I first met Al when I was about 14 years old.  I was pretty much on

my own at that age.  My fucking parents were drunk most of the time and didn't

seem to care about what I did...as long as I wasn't caught by the cops.  Well,

anyways, I was looking around the neighborhood for a house to bust into when I

ended up at Al's.  I was poking around, when the back door slammed open and Al

came out with a gun.  He motioned me into the house with the gun and said,

"Get in here right now, punk.  Or I'll blow your fucking brains out!"

        What could I do?

        I went in.  Al led me to the basement and told me to sit.  The room

was dark but I could tell this was no ordinary basement.  Al said, "I know

you, kid.  You live up the street, don't you...Yeah, I've heard about you.

Think you wanna rob this place now?"

        Before I could answer, he said "Come here kid, I want you to see

something.  Come on..."

        Al stepped into a doorway and unlocked the door with a ring from his

belt.  The first thing I saw was a girl in the middle of the room under a pair

of bright, hot lights.  Her wrists were bound tightly together and both were

pulled up towards the ceiling by a rope on a pulley.  Al basically had her

hanging in the air...she was stretched pretty good.  I could see her muscles

quivering and cramping with the strain of hanging from her wrists.  Her ankles

were secured by straps bolted into the floor and the spreader bolts had

stretched her legs so that her cunt and ass were completely accessible by

hand, dildo or cock.

        She was a lovely girl.  Al had called her Monica and said she was only

18 years old.  She had a very sweet body:a pair of 38-C tits, a nice shapely

ass and long, tight legs.  She had once looked sweet and innocent but now she

was looking scared and in pain.  Al walked up to her and grabbed her long,

curly blond hair in a fist and yanked hard.  "Brought a visitor, baby.  He's

gonna see a really nice show, too.  Remember what happened last night, bitch!

Well, you're gonna get it again and worse!"

        Al quickly shoved a long dildo gag into her mouth.  She struggled, but

Al skillfully forced her mouth open and shoved the dildo deep until her mouth

was too stuffed to scream.  By the look in Monica's eyes, I could tell that

she knew what was coming when Al pulled a long piece of thin nylon rope out of

his jacket pocket .  The girl hopelessly struggled, she even tried shaking her

tits wildly, straining to avoid the pain of the ropes.  But Al, like an old

pro, deftly grabbed a tit by gripping her left nipple in a tight vise-like

grip and pulling her tit out, away from her chest.  Monica screamed when Al

stretched her firm young tit to its fullest length.  Al ignored the feeble

moanings coming from the gag and slowly ties her tit with the rope.  He wraps

the rope tight, making her tit bulge out like a balloon.  The large, erecting

nipple points out proudly, just begging for attention.  And that was one nice

thing about Monica, she had very large nipples - at least one inch long and

almost one half inch thick.  Big nipples, perfect for clamping.

        Al, however, was tying up her right tit in the same tight bondage.

Monica's tits were really starting to hurt now.  And the poor girl knew from

previous experiences that the pain in her tortured hoots would only get more

painful as time went by.  After tying her tits tightly, Al abused her nipples

with sharp clamps.  He grabbed a nipple, rubbed between his fingers and even

bent down to suck it once or twice.  After he got it nice and hard, he slipped

a sharp-toothed clamp over her nip and screwed it down.  Monica was soon

squirming again, as she felt the awful clamp bite into her tender nipple

flesh.  Her poor nipple was severely clamped and almost pierced by the sharp

teeth of the clamps.  Al tightened a clamp around her other nipple, even

tighter.  Monica just hung there, her tits burning with pain, wondering if the

tight ropes and the severe nipple clamps would force blood out through her

tortured tit-tips.

        Al wasn't done with her tits, however.  He attached a length of twine

to the end of each nipple clamp and looped this twine through another set of

pulleys hanging from the ceiling.  By hanging weights onto the end,he could

force the clamps to slowly starting lifting Monica's tits towards the ceiling.

With enough weights on, her tits could eventually point straight up.  And the

clamps on her nipples were designed to pinch tighter as the pull on the rope

increased.  Al stuck a few weights and sighed with satisfaction as he worked a

response out of the poor girl.  As more weight was added, her nipples were

further crushed by the cruel teeth of the clamps.  Her tits were being pulled

up and stretched out.  She moaned with agony and helplessly shook in her

bonds.  Every move she made, though, only made here tits bounce & quiver more.

        Just watching this girl having her tits abused really turned me on.  I

could feel a bulge growing in my pants as my eyes took in the sight of a young

girl having her tits cruelly tortured.  This was the most pain her young,

developing body had ever felt.  And I liked seeing that.  I noticed that Al

had been watching closely for a reaction from me.  So, to show him how I felt,

I walked up to where the girl hung from the ropes.  I slid my hand up to her

tits and squeezed the heavy undersides.  I pinched and prodded the abused tit

flesh with my fingers.  I let my other hand slide down her back, from the top

of the shoulders down into her ass crack.  I fingered her asshole for a moment

and let my hand wander down even further.  I could feel her body shudder from

the dangerous grasp of my hands.  I stopped manipulating her breasts and

concentrated on the furred lips of her cunt.

        I looked over at Al and he just kind of looked at me with a "Be my

guest" look.  With his approval, I went into full action.  By this time, my

left hand had been rubbing her slickening cunt lips while my right toyed with

her clit.  After a little time, Monica, much to her shame, began to juice

noticably.  Her pussy was getting turned on from my touch, even though her

tits were still feeling the worst pain of her life and realizing that her

wetting cunt was proof of how much she liked this, she hung her head in shame.

Monica wondered, "How could I be getting so hot?  Here I am getting tortured

by a couple of maniacs, and my body seems to like it!"

        Monica may have been surprised, but Al wasn't.  He was pretty

experienced with this kind of stuff, and he knew that after a few days of

severe physical pain, combined with a lack of sleep and the added

psychological pressure of not knowing how long she would live, most girls

ended up turning onto the pain.  Humans are wonderfully adaptable.  Put a

young girl without any experience of hetero sex in an environment of strict

bondage and severe discipline, and she would eventually respond by learning to

get turned on with pain.  "If you get em young enough," says Al, "you can

train them to accept anything.  And there are plenty of men in this world who

will pay plenty for a well trained young teen."

        As I was to learn, Al never needed a 9 to 5 job because he made his

living by training new sex slaves and selling them to the highest bidder. It's

a great job with alot of percs, when you think about it.  You get your pick of

all the sweet meat around, get to abuse and fuck them repeatedly and then sell

them off when you're finished.  If you get a really good one, you can keep her

around for a little longer and then sell her when she doesn't scream as much

as she used to.

        Monica's pussy was really creaming now, and my rubbing and pinching

had slowly pushed her beyond a mere wettening: she was softly moaning with

pleasure, and moving her hips against my thrusting hand.  I had slipped three

fingers at once into her tight cunt while my other hand rubbed her clit and

fingered her pretty pink lips.  She was sooning coming against my hand, but my

fingers kept on working while her cunt flooded my hands with its juice.  I

kept working on her cunt till she had finished coming.  I could tell that the

force of her cum had drained her.  She now hung very limply in the ropes - all

resistance was gone from her body.  The pleasure, along with the pain to

heighten it, had finally broken her independent will.  Al and I could now do

as we pleased with her.  And we did.

        Al walked over to a cabinet, opened it and reached for something in

the back.  He had picked up a riding crop and brought it to me.  "You handled

her cunt pretty good, but can you give this little slut what she really needs?

I wanna see you whip her, especially the tits.  Remember to concentrate on the

undersides of her hoots, that's where they're most sensitive.  Do this and you

prove to me that you're ready to join my little club."

        With these words of encouragement ringing through my ears, I took the

whip and approached poor Monica.  She hung there senselessly, oblivious to all

around her.  I soon changed that, though.  My first blow landed right on the

bottom of her big left tit.  The sudden shock of pain slowly brought her back

to life.  Her pain and agony intensified as I directed more blows to her body

and put more energy into every stroke of the crop.  She was soon shaking

again, with the gag frustrating her desire to release a really good scream. If

she could only scream, she would be able to release some of her agony.  But

being forced into a mumbling silence while being severely abused heightened

her sense of fear, pain and frustration.

        I kept whipping her writhing body, sometimes directing a lash to her

ass, back or thighs.  I even walked around her and whipped her reddening cunt

with the crop for a few minutes.  This attack provoked an even greater

response.  As the blows fell on her screaming pussy lips, Monica felt herself

starting to feel aroused again.  Every now and then, a blow fell on her clit

and even this abuse heightened her arousal.  She was soon coming again as I

kept the crop slamming into her twitching cunt.

        After 15 more minutes of whipping her, my arm grew tired and I put the

crop down.  I felt drained myself.  I had made this girl come three times with

her tits tied up.  I had even abused her cunt severely, but she managed to

come again.  What a good little girl, I thought.  I couldn't wait till Al

showed me what other things could be done to her.  It was at this time, with

my dick threatening to bust through my pants, that I decided to dedicate my

life to the challenge of following in Al's footsteps.  He had no son, and I

had no real parents, so it was a pretty good deal for the both of us.  It

didn't turn out good for Monica, though.  In his eagerness to show me the

tricks of the trade, Al took Monica into a more accelerated and intense

training format.  She would be introduced to new and more painful forms of

torture sooner and with more intensity than the average girl. She would have 9

months worth of pain in about three.

        Al was hungry, so we went to eat lunch in the kitchen. We just left

Monica hanging from the ropes, her tits still tied and clamped. As Al prepared

grilled cheese sandwiches, he told my about Monica's next encounter.  He

explained how much electricity can hurt a girl if it's flowing through her

cunt and tits.  With a few feet of wire, a fully charged car battery and some

strategically placed electric clamps, you could have a girl jumping and

screaming in seconds.  I eagerly awaited a demonstration of this new technique.


                                End of Capter One