Dear Helpless,
I had the great pleasure of visiting your site and Warhammer's site
today. The subject addressed by your site is an absorbing one. Many of
the memorabilia mentioned on your site are things I have originals of,
for example, The Adventures of S.G. and the stories originally posted as
letters in Bondage Life magazine.
In addition to having practised many techniques that have not been
mentioned on your site, I have written several stories that ought to
appeal as fantasies, to people with similar interests, and I attach five
of them for you to post on your site, if you like them.
They are called A Tale of Possession, Tempted, Comfort, Off the Wall and
Flatmates.
I have also built some home-made equipment using simple items used on
boats, including a self stretching frame that uses elastic to stretch
the subject by pulling cords through one-way cleats. The release method
involves tugging the ropes out of the cleat using a smaller cord - if
you can still move enough! It has all of the elements needed to make for
a very enjoyable session.
Readers should be warned that the methods employed in the stories are
written purely for fantasy purposes!
I have also experimented with various s-b techniques involving water,
such as a deep pool or a shelving beach. Bottles half full of sand that
gradually fill as waves splash into them, and eventually sink. I have
also designed a special kind of tie that works very well and is
comfortable, made from an ordinary tee-shirt. All these things I can
outline in greater detail if you feel they will interest readers.
At present I would prefer that my email address is not posted, but I
will be very pleased to answer anyone who wants to get in touch with me.
With best regards,
Sean
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Comfort - November 1987
The naked girl prepares herself in the playroom. First she fastens the
cuffs above her elbows, and on her wrists and ankles. Each pair of cuffs
can be clipped together by a strong, steel snap-lock fitted in between.
The upper pair are also fitted with steel rings. She goes to the centre
of the room. A strong rope hangs from a beam in the ceiling, and she
pulls herself up to test its strength. It is firm; it will hold.
Something else is needed. She moves a three foot high, leather-covered
bench under the rope, and hooks one end over a small wooden block set
into the floor. She goes to the wall, where a sash cord runs through a
fixed ring, up and over a pulley fixed to a beam in the ceiling, and then
down to a heavy weight. She takes the end of the cord at the wall ring,
pulls it towards the bench. The weight rises. She fastens the cord to
the bench. It is ready. She knocks the bench over, and it slides slowly
across the floor until it comes to rest against the wall. It works!
She pulls it back to its position under the rope, and hooks it once
more over the block.
Next she takes a large, black rubber ball gag fitted to a harness.
It seems much too big, and stretches her jaw uncomfortably as she presses
it firmly into her mouth. She tightens the straps which cross behind
and over her head, winding a cloth over her mouth to hold the ball in
place. Her mouth is filled, her tongue compressed. She is silenced.
A rope is tied to another ring set into the wall. She feeds its other end
through the rings between her upper arms, then ties it again to the wall
ring. She walks away from the wall. The rope tightens, pulling her
elbows back, then closer together, closer. Click! The cuffs have snapped
together. She is pinioned, her shoulders pulled back, her breasts thrust
forward. She backs towards the wall to unfasten the rope; it is awkward
with her elbows cuffed together. She pulls it free, then steps back to
the bench.
She climbs up onto its high, pa
-------------------------------
Flatmates - May 1991
You are alone in the flat, naked. You are sitting at the bottom of the
large bed, ready to begin. For long you have prepared for this adventure,
making sure that you will be alone, secretly collecting the equipment
hidden in your room and concealing your preparations. The ceiling fixtures
are normally used to hang decorations, and nobody hasÊremarked on their
unusual positioning. The bed was more difficult, but a cover conceals the
fittings from the casual eye. It was hardest to conceal your rings from
the interested eyes of your flatmates, but normally you wear other, less
obtrusive jewellery, so you are sure they do not suspect, even though it
is hard to conceal such things from two young, attractive and obviously
very interested men. They will certainly not need that kind
of encouragement.
Your breasts jut proudly forward, your golden nipple rings jiggle as you
move, and your dark hair falls softly over your shoulders. Your legs are
parted a little, and another golden ring emerges from the curly hairs of
your trim mound, parting the upper crevice of your sex, transfixing the
base of your soft inner ridge. You feel its weight pulling gently,
distractingly at your clitoris. It is time to begin.
The strong but comfortable cuffs are ready for your wrists and ankles, and
one by one you lock them tightly in position with their strong steel rings
outside your ankles and behind your wrists. You stuff the leather gag into
your mouth and tighten the straps over your head. You know your cries will
be effectively silenced now.
The cleats look neat at each corner of the bed, with shackles to attach
the strong, heavily tensioned ropes to your ankles and wrists. Each cleat
has swivelling grips which clamp the rope. One by one you lift the ropes
clear of their clamps and pull them out until you can fasten the shackles
to your ankle cuffs. It is hard, but you manage, parting your ankles a
little to reach the shackles as the rope slips back into the clamps under
the strain. You feel t
--------------------
Off the Wall
September 1994
I tremble as I remove my clothes in the silent emptiness of the changing
room. Today my Master is going to surprise me. Rain beats on the roof, but
inside it is warm. I hang my clothes neatly. I have been instructed to
shower before I go up into the gymnasium.
We have been together for a while now. It is exciting to obey him. He
understands my needs, but he does not allow me the indulgence of
controlling my own responses.
The hot needle spray erects my nipples instantly, and I wriggle with
pleasure. I soap carefully between my legs. I am not allowed to pleasure
myself. He will punish me if I take too long. All the same, I love the
feel of the slippery lather between the soft folds of my sex lips. My
breasts are so sensitive that soaping them is another erotic experience.
I am careful to lift and rotate my rings as I wash myself. My hair
colour is a natural gold. I am lucky. My Master likes my hair, especially
the curls between my legs.
My Master is waiting for me. I dry myself quickly and I put on the costume
he likes. There is a wispy skirt, that barely covers my bottom when I am
standing still. It offers more an erotic invitation than any semblance of
concealment or protection. A matching cloak offers a tempting view of my
modestly sized but prettily curved breasts. He likes to hold one of my
breasts in each of his hands, and twiddle my nipple rings.
It always feels odd to walk so scantily clad up stairs and along
corridors in the deserted sports complex, that at other times is
filled with people. I am afraid that one day there will be somebody else
in the building. I know that the sound of my screams will be lost in the
battering of the rain. Perhaps he will not gag me today. I am a
little self-conscious as I step into the gymnasium. I know I am exposed
to the kiss of my MasterÕs whip, but I am not allowed to look behind me.
The cool air caresses my bare bottom cheeks as I walk.
I advance obediently until I am standing close to the wall. I am conscious
of my
-----------------------------------
Tempted.txt
The throaty sound of MarkÕs Ferrari receded down the long curving
driveway. Helen jumped excitedly in front of the bedroom mirror. This
was too good a chance to miss! He would not be back until at least
mid afternoon, and for once he had forgotten to restrain his favourite
slave. She looked down at the golden ring that peeped so cheekily from the
neatly trimmed tuft of golden hair between her legs. There were so many
ways to chain a ringed girl. She ran her fingers lightly down over her
breasts to test their shape. They were as perfect as a girl could hope
for. Her nipples were erect even before she touched them, as usual. They
were guaranteed to turn a manÕs head, even if she dressed with impeccable
modesty.
She did not dare to wear nipple rings in the street. An unobtrusive pair
of flesh coloured sleepers kept her piercings established while revealing
nothing to strangers. The ring between her legs was much easier to hide.
Quickly she removed the sleepers from her nipple piercings, and inserted a
thick pair of hinged golden rings. She pinched them hard until they
snapped shut. She loved the feel of them. They were more than just a
distraction. Every movement became a sensual event. Wearing them all the
time had increased the size of her nipples. Her friends in the aerobics
class had become quite jealous. She smiled. They would go nuts if they
saw her like this. It was difficult enough to hide her pussy ring in the
showers, but so far nobody had guessed her secret. She wondered what it
would feel like doing aerobics, wearing nothing but her rings.
Stretching lithely, she examined herself once again. Satisfied, she
hurried out of the bedroom, and down the long curved staircase. It was
exciting to be nude in the old oak panelled hall, and the study where the
entrance to the playroom was concealed. It was a place that reeked of
maleness. She pressed a catch. The panel slid aside to reveal the hidden
door. She had watched Mark enter the combination often enough. The numbers
worked first time! The bank vault do
-------------------------
A Tale of Possession - March 1992
The girl drove fast along the empty blacktop road that stretched before her
across the desert plain. It had been a hot afternoon, but already the sun
was easing West. This was not a working day, but still she watched warily
for signs of life in this secluded spot. It would not do to attract
interest, not at all; but she had taken further precautions. Her shapely
figure was unobtrusive under her loose cotton coverall, her hair coiled
beneath a wide-brimmed cowboy hat to further disguise her sex to the
casual observer.
Without the coverall there would be no doubt about her youthful femininity,
none whatsoever. She was proud of her classical shape, her height in
perfect proportion to her figure. Her breasts were round and well
proportioned, her hips trim and her pert bottom provocatively full. She
loved to walk seductively and feel those heads turning. She enjoyed that
feeling of innocent power.
She enjoyed the feel of the hard wearing cotton against her bare skin. Her
breasts brushed the material as she moved. Her nipple rings jiggled with
each vibration and bump of the desert road, and had rubbed her stiffened
nipple tips against the thick patches of her breast pockets until they
had become sensitive to the slightest contact. There was no possibility of
relief from the insistent tugging of the rings. They were locked securely,
and impossible to remove. Her Master had kept the cunning sliver of steel
that opened those tiny locks. Their presence was a curious paradox of
possession, and at times a source of fierce excitement - but not the only
source.
The other source of distracting female sensations was predictably between
her legs. The larger golden ring was inserted through its piercing, deep
in the fleshy ridge between her upper labia. It teased her with every
vibration of the seat, until her clitoris peeped hesitantly from its
sheath like a snail from a shell. The ring was firm, comfortable but
impossible to ignore. It too bore a tiny lock, secure from her
