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association day 8 by adrian hunter and chelsea shepard

Association (a serial bdsm novel)

By Adrian Hunter and Chelsea Shepard

Note: past episodes can be accessed at

http://www.adrianhunter.com/association_about.htm

DAY 8--GEOFFREY

Sabrina was still dead to the world when I sneaked into her room the

next morning. I wondered what she was dreaming about. Well, there

was an easy way to find out.

I knelt next to her bed and lowered my head to one of her naked

breasts. I began blowing gentle streams of air against the nipple

until it began to harden. Then I let my tongue and lips take over.

When I was sure she was awake, I went to work with my teeth. As soon

as she arched her back, trying to press the dildos deeper inside her,

I unbuckled the belt around her crotch and removed the plug from her

pussy.

"Nice try, Sabrina," I whispered next to her covered ear. "But your

pleasure is no longer your concern."

I removed the hood and the gag, then climbed on the bed so I was

facing her feet, my knees on either side of her head.

"On the other hand," I said as I pulled down his pants, "my pleasure

is your top priority."

I put my hands on either side of her waist and lowered my cock until

its tip touched her lips.

"Don't make me get the ring."

She quickly took me into her mouth and started sucking like a

teenager trying to impress her first college date.

"Take your time, Sabrina. Remember, the longer I last, the less

time I have to pursue other activities."

So much to learn, I thought as she slowed down to a degree that made

me wonder if she had lost consciousness. I made a mental note to

show her some oral-sex videos that would give her ample opportunity

to study more professional techniques.

When I finally came, I waited a good five minutes before extracting

myself and getting off the bed.

"An excellent start to the day, Sabrina. Are you still ready to

begin your training? Or would you prefer to take your chances with

the auction?"

"Yes, please!" she said in a tone that was much too chipper for

someone on the brink of being sold as chattel. She must think she's

home free. I'd be very surprised if that was her attitude come

Friday.

After completing our familiar morning rituals in the bathroom, I

cuffed her wrists behind her back, and led her downstairs to the

kitchen table, where she sat with straps around her waist and ankles

while I prepared a large breakfast. I debated allowing her to feed

herself, and wound up alternating forkfuls of eggs and potatoes

between us. After cleaning up, I took her to the living room and

began preparing for her first session.

Five days wasn't nearly enough time, so her auction listing

specified "foal." But if she stayed, she'd have the rest of her life

to get it right. Either way, it was a marvelous substitute for the

now-unnecessary photo sessions as an eminently pleasant way to spend

the day outdoors.

I started with the collar, a thick, stiff leather affair that

covered her entire neck from shoulders to chin. Next came her

harness, a collection of straps that I buckled tightly around her

torso, her breasts straining through two metal hoops. Before

cinching the belt that encircled her crotch, I added a plug for her

ass that had a small ring embedded in its base that I threaded

through a slit in the leather.

Next came the arm binder, which pushed her breasts even more tightly

against the hoops as I laced it tight enough to make her elbows touch.

The bit gag with the blinders soon covered her head and mouth,

followed by cuffs for her thighs.

Finally, I guided her feet into the boots. Instead of typical

heels, they featured strong arches that forced her to stand on her

tiptoes, but this was mitigated somewhat by the fact that the toes

were built to mimic the hoof of a horse. Once I finished lacing them

up her calves, I added two short chains to the ring jutting out

between her legs, and clipped them to the thigh cuffs.

"Perfect," I said as I took a step back to admire my handiwork.

"All you need are some clamps, but those are in the barn."

I picked up a riding crop, and gave her a nasty swat across her ass.

"After you," I said, pointing toward the door. We made our way into

the bright sunshine and walked down the path toward the barn, her

wobbly progress punctuated by an occasional prod from the lash. I

enjoyed watching the way the chains jerked the ring of the plug back

and forth as she tried to establish an acceptable rhythm to her gait.

"Good luck," I whispered soundlessly.

When we entered the main door of the barns, my horses began to

whinny excitedly in their stalls.

"Easy there," I said in a soothing voice. "I'll be with you in a

minute. But first, I want to show our guest something."

I directed Sabrina to a stall, and opened the door, where we were

greeted by the sight of a saddle suspended in mid-air by four chains.

Sticking up from the seat were two long rubber dildos.

"It was a pity to drill through the leather to install them, but I

had to be sure they would stay put if necessary."

I let her absorb the physics in silence for a moment.

"Needless to say, if you fail this morning's lesson, we're going to

take a little ride this afternoon with your ankles strapped to your

thighs and these..."

I pointed to two heavy metal clamps hanging down from thin chains

wrapped around the horn.

"Well, I think you get the idea."

I unhooked one of the chains holding up the saddle and clipped it to

the front of her collar.

"Now, stay put for a moment while I finish getting things ready

outside."

I thought I heard her say something that sounded suspiciously unlike

"yes, please" as I shut the door firmly behind me.

--SABRINA--

Damn it. The horses. In the confusion of the last few days, I had

literally forgotten about them. But Geoffrey hadn't, to the point of

turning me into one. Did he expect me to whinny?

Although the wild specimens of man's noble conquest were shut in

their stalls, their noises made me incredibly nervous. Much more

than the huge dildos and the clamps between the blinders surrounding

my eyes. The logic of it all...

"What the heck is he doing?" I thought to myself as impatience and

fear grew at the same pace. One more minute, and my self-control

would be history. And I would win a free ticket to Asia. Which I've

always wanted to visit anyway. Well, as long as I can keep my sense

of humor, I'm doing fine. Besides, anything was better than dealing

with animals that snort.

When I heard Geoffrey walk back into the stables, I got a grip on

myself. I couldn't derail my chances because I was afraid of horses.

Whatever the day held in store, I reminded myself, it can't be worse

than spending it suspended in the cage.

I thought Geoffrey would come to me, but he headed straight for the

first stall on my left. I heard him talk to the horse while he fed

it. I was amazed to hear such sweet, cajoling words when all I got

was sarcastic comments and cold orders. I presumed horses ranked

higher than women in his world.

"Well, why doesn't he go fuck them?" I mumbled with inappropriate

anger.

After nourishing his beloved creatures, he went on to brush them, or

at least that's what I figured out from the various sounds coming

from the other stalls. I became increasingly restless. I folded and

stretched my legs, rolled my head around to ease the pain in my neck

and shoulders, and twisted my body to get rid of the itching

sensations produced by the harness. Not once did I realize I was

behaving like my four-legged adversaries.

The world's oldest stable boy suddenly returned.

"Are we nervous? Easy, I'll be with you in a sec." And he tapped my

ass before walking out one last time.

Oh great, now Geoffrey treats me like another barnyard beast. I

sighed. Obedience had never been my strongest trait, but I reminded

myself of the terrible alternative, and decided to be a good girl.

Or mare, as the case may be.

--GEOFFREY--

"We're going to start with the basics today," I said as I unclipped

the chain holding her collar to the ceiling. "As I'm quite sure you

would prefer to avoid a long trail ride, I'm sure you'll do your very

best."

I grabbed Sabrina's shoulders and turned her roughly to face the

open door.

"Forward!" I barked, punctuated with a crack of the crop on her ass.

She started walking uncertainly out of the stall into the main hall

of the barn.

"Left!" Another smack accented my command.

We turned toward the double doors leading outside.

"Forward!" And again with the reinforcement.

Sabrina stumbled into the bright morning sun.

"Right! Good girl! Now, forward!"

We headed down a well-trodden dirt path toward a round arena

surrounded by a white slatted fence.

"Stop!"

I walked around to open the gate, then returned to my position

behind her.

"Forward!"

She took a few hesitant steps on the hard sandy surface of the ring.

"Stop!" I yelled.

Startled, she stubbed one of her hooves and almost fell down, and

the resulting strain on the plug connected to her thighs made her

swear loudly and clearly, despite the bit in her mouth. She then

turned her head to shoot me a glare that split the difference between

anger and anguish.

"Eyes forward! Damn it! That will cost you, Sabrina. Don't expect

me to forgive errors of flagrant disobedience."

I came around to face her, frowning.

"Left...now, legs apart...bend over..."

I smacked her five times, hard. Then the same for the other cheek.

"Right...no, turn right, goddamn it! Stand up straight."

I repeated the process on both of her breasts.

"Stay!" I snapped at her, ignoring her copious tears as I strode off

to fetch the training wheel. It was a simple affair, nothing more

than a metal pole sunk into the center of the ring with two longer

and thinner poles jutting out horizontally like the top of a "T"

which spun around on a large bearing. I reached up and affixed a

chain to the end of the arm, then brought it around to where she was

standing.

"Because it's your first day, I'm going to give you a chance to

practice before...well, let's see how you do first."

I reached over to her chest and snapped the heavy clamps hanging

from the chain onto her nipples.

"Now, there are four basic gaits which you will master: the walk;

the trot; the canter; and the gallop. Each one is half again as

quick as the previous, so a trot is 50 percent faster than a walk,

the canter is 50 percent faster than the trot, et cetera. With the

trot, you will shorten your gait and bring your knees up high. The

canter is almost like skipping, with one hoof ahead of the other at

all times. And the gallop is a faster version of the canter. Ready?

Walk!"

As Sabrina made her way around the perimeter of the ring, I put down

my crop and picked up a long bullwhip hanging coiled on one of the

fence posts, then strolled to the middle of the arena where I took a

few practice strokes against the pole.

"Very good, Sabrina," I said from the middle of the ring as she

completed her first circuit. "Now, trot! No, no, knees higher!"

The end of the lash snapped like a rifle shot against her groin.

"That's better! And stop! Good, good. Now, trot!"

We spent the better part of an hour working exclusively on stopping

and starting, as well as alternating between walking and trotting

around the ring until I was satisfied that she could change gears as

smoothly as a rally-tuned sports car.

When I sensed she was on the brink of collapse, I put down the whip

and joined her at the edge of the ring where she stood panting, her

body awash in dirty rivulets of sweat dripping around the leather

straps like floods bursting a dam.

"An excellent beginning, especially for a foal," I said as I

unclamped her nipples and picked up my crop. "That will do for

today. Left!"

She turned without hesitation and faced the gate.

"Very, very good. You've learned the value of instant obedience,

even though it's only to avoid the lash. I'm sorry you won't be

joining me on my afternoon ride, but I'm sure I can come up with a

suitable diversion."

I unlatched the gate and swung it open wide.

"Forward!"

We marched up the path back toward the house. When we got to the

back yard, I directed her onto the lawn directly toward the shallow

end of the swimming pool.

"Stop!" I said when her hooved feet grazed the rounded edge where

the water lapped gently against the sides.

I removed the boots, then all her leather accoutrements, replacing

the binder with a pair of handcuffs and the bit with a rubber ball

gag.

"Forward!"

Her hesitation was rewarded with a hard slap on her very red cheeks.

I didn't tell her to stop walking until the water was just below the

bottom of her nose.

"Stay!"

--SABRINA--

When Geoffrey had mentioned training the day before, I thought he

meant more bondage, but now I found that it was just...training.

Simple and functional. How to move, how to walk, how to obey. And I

hated every minute of it. If he thought I'd ask to stay with him at

the end of the week, he needed to think again.

However I was rather pleased with myself. I had survived the first

session. The trick, I discovered after my tenth circuit around the

ring, was to create a complete blank in my mind. Stop thinking.

Just walk. Obey. And things were a lot easier after that. Except

when the bite of the whip reminded me of my human flesh and

sensibility. But if I could avoid the lash, I was relatively safe.

Now the threat was the water, so dangerously close to my nose. But

the cool sensation on my body was pure bliss, and I thoroughly

enjoyed the first ten minutes in the pool. A glance behind me

revealed that Geoffrey had entered the house and was probably

preparing lunch. I knew he could see me through the kitchen window,

so I kept as still as I could, not daring to step back an inch.

After 15 minutes, my swim resulted in another all-too-common effect,

only this one was not so pleasant; I needed to pee. I tried every

known trick to forget about it, but none worked. I took a quick

glance behind me. No Geoffrey in sight. Even if he returned, the

urine would disappear without a trace. But I couldn't let go. I

stupidly upheld my promise of obedience and resisted the need. I

squeezed my legs together as tight as I could, praying that he would

return quickly.

When he did, I was suffering from such cramps that walking out of

the pool was pure torture, especially when I knew the agony in my

bladder would double once I'd get out of the water.

A few drops probably hit the towel when he vigorously dried me, but

I was able to suppress a major incident at the cost of increasing

pain in my kidneys.

When I was perfectly dry in every little crevice, he led me to the

round table on the side of the pool and cuffed my ankles to the chair

with my hands tied at the back. The usual.

Being seated made the urge slightly more bearable, but not for long.

He was only halfway through my plate of chicken and rice when I felt

the cramps return, stronger than ever. I was sick of eating, but I

finished the plate. Drinking was a nightmare, but I swallowed the

entire contents of the glass he presented me. I thought I was

running a fever when he started his own meal, taking his time like he

had nothing else to do for the rest of the day. I couldn't believe

he didn't see it. There was a limit to what one can endure, even to

avoid punishment. The whip would probably feel better than this

anyway.

When he put down his fork on the empty plate, he turned to me and

casually asked, "Would you like to use the bathroom?"

I almost let go when I replied "yes, please," but he didn't comment

on my obvious enthusiasm as he unlocked the cuffs and followed me

indoors. My relief was indescribable.

"I had planned a solo ride for the afternoon," he started as we

headed back outside, "but I think I changed my mind."

I waited, my senses on full alert.

"Since you've done so well this morning, I'll let you accompany me.

How does that sound?"

I stared at him in silence, not sure of what he meant. And yet, the

meaning was obvious.

"Yes, p-please," I answered weakly.

"You don't sound very enthusiastic. You really don't like horses,

do you?" His rhetorical question needed no answer, so he went on.

"We'd better do something about it. I'll give you two options,

Sabrina."

He pointed at a large tree fifty meters away beyond the pool.

"You can spend the afternoon tied up to that tree, head down and

fully accessorized, or you come on a horseback ride with me."

I knew which preference would be obvious to any sane person, but to

me, it was a matter of choosing between two evils.

"Will it be the tree?" he asked.

I kept silent.

"Or the ride?"

No. Absolutely not. Could I have a third option, please?

"Yes, please," I finally gave in, my heart beating a frenetic tempo.

"Fine. I'm sure Akasha will be pleased to see you back. Let's go."

And we made our way back to the stables. As I walked past the large

tree he had pointed at, I wondered if hanging down below its foliage

wouldn't have been a better option after all.

--GEOFFREY--

I wasn't surprised by Sabrina's surprise when I led Akasha out of

the barn without the saddle; in fact, without a saddle of any kind.

But I was more than a little curious about her willingness to

accompany me.

Was she trying to please me? Get on my good side? That really

wasn't an issue; she was already there as far as I was concerned.

Did she desperately want a thorough fucking from the rubber prods

screwed into the seat? Possibly. But I was saving that privilege

for myself.

Or perhaps she simply wanted to be with me, no matter what the

circumstances. Even if she couldn't admit it.

I unlocked the handcuffs, and cupped my hands next to Akasha's side

to give her a step.

"Up you go."

I climbed in front of her, then took her wrists and cuffed them in

front of my waist, her arms wrapped tight around me.

"Are you ready?"

"Y-yes, please," she replied in a very small voice.

"Don't worry, this will be fun."

I picked up the reins and gave them a hard shake.

"Akasha, forward!"

Despite the slow gait, I could feel her heart pounding like a

jackhammer against my back. Can't be helped, I decided. Time to

open her up.

"Canter!"

The horse immediately doubled its speed as we raced along the path

that would lead us to the open fields beyond my property.

"You okay back there?" I yelled. Her hard squeeze around my waist

was all the affirmation I needed.

"Gallop!"

We only stayed out about half an hour, but I worked Akasha hard, as

I had been neglecting her over the past few days. When we returned

to the barn, Sabrina was trembling a bit, but I could tell that she

had discovered the secret reason why so many girls adored their

horses. And my growing erection was becoming equally hard to ignore.

I uncuffed her wrists, helped her off the horse and recuffed her

hands behind her back. Without a word, I scooped her into my arms

and carried her into the barn to the stall where I stored the hay.

Seconds later, she was lying across the stalks with her legs

sprawled open and our groins pressed hard against each other.

When I was finished, I took her into another stall that was empty

save for a large white bucket on the floor, a long length of chain

and four thick leather cuffs drooping at various levels from the

ceiling.

She soon found herself in the same state, her arms stretched toward

the ceiling and her legs hanging bent at a 45-degree angle behind

her. I strapped a rubber penis gag around her face. Then I left her

for a moment to retrieve the clamps from the training wheel, and one

other item from the house.

Upon returning, I took the long length of chain and wrapped one end

around her waist, leading the other end up under her ass, around her

crotch, then over a beam in the ceiling. Then I clipped the handle

of the bucket to a link so it hung about three feet off the ground.

I set up the clamps so the chain holding them together was also

connected to the chain holding the bucket. Then I showed her the

butt plug, a three-stage affair with each section larger than the

previous one, culminating in a base close to two inches wide.

I snuggled the tip of the plug into her gaping anus, and positioned

the base above the links between her legs.

Finally, I swung out a long faucet arm from the pipe on the wall so

the spout was directly over the bucket. I twisted the handle ever so

slightly until a single drop fell into the bucket.

A few seconds later, a second one plopped down behind it. Then,

eventually, a third and a fourth.

"I have to work out the other horses now. Be a good girl and hang

around until I'm done, won't you?"

--SABRINA--

From where I, well, hung, it was hard to deduce the physics of the

complicated assemblage. However, I knew it wouldn't be long until I

found out how the water drops I could hear splashing in a hollow

metallic receptacle, most likely a bucket, would affect my

predicament.

In the meantime, the absence of other activity led me to mental

wanderings. The surprise of the day had been the horse ride. After

ten minutes of terror, only made tolerable by Geoffrey's presence in

front of me, I had opened up and enjoyed the experience. The speed

and the powerful movements of the animal under my naked body had

created unknown sensations of thrill and excitement. So much so that

I was disappointed when he brought Akasha back to the stables. On

the other hand, the sexual relief he provided in the aftermath had

been more than welcome.

I wondered if this short ride would be enough to cure me of my

childhood phobia. I certainly didn't feel ready to take the reins

myself, but I was ready to relive the experience if the opportunity

arose.

Exhilarated by my victory, I had let him tie me up without the

slightest resistance or concern. In fact, for the first time since

arriving at this accursed farm, I had been able to relax and almost

enjoy the process, trying to guess what he had in mind as he produced

the various toys. The plug had frightened me a little, though, and I

dearly wished he had chosen a more comfortable size. Of course, I

had no say in the matter.

Once satisfied with his work, the master of the game had gone to

take care of the horses. When all had joined Akasha in the bright

outdoors, the stables were silent, except for the dripping.

After a while, the repetitive sound became more muffled, which meant

the bucket was slowly being filled, and I perceived several changes

in my physical sensations. The tension on my breasts had increased,

the chain was tearing on the tender flesh of my sex, and the plug had

made some progress inside. The process was excruciatingly slow, yet

undeniable.

When I fully comprehended what fate had in store for me, a wave of

arousal rolled through my body. I tested my bonds, but my scope of

movement was extremely limited. So there was nothing to do but wait

for the inevitable to happen, unless Geoffrey chose to stop the chain

reaction. I had become a living time bomb regulated by water drops.

A small voice in my mind hoped that the bomb would have time to

explode.

The drops continued to fall, the chain continued to pull, and the

plug was past its first element. I kept my eyes closed most of the

time, concentrating on the pain and trying to alleviate it by sheer

mental persuasion. Then pleasure made its entrance, and I surprised

myself by contracting my anal muscles to help the progress of the

intruder.

Two-thirds of the plug had disappeared inside me, and my opening was

being torn apart by the last, largest element. My breasts burned

from the sharp bite of the clamps, while my clit was cruelly scoured

by the metal links. Those were the last observations I made before I

took another journey to the land where erotic hallucinations

dominated the scenery.

When I woke up some time later, I couldn't remember anything past

that point. My body told me I had come, but I had no recollection of

it. All I could feel was the physical burnout left by violent

orgasms.

I assessed my new position; no longer suspended to the ceiling, I

found myself lying face down on a bale of hay with my wrists and

ankles connected in my back. The gag was still in place. I

cautiously opened my eyes, saw that the day was well on its way, and

heard Geoffrey bringing back the horses to their respective stalls.

I felt strangely comfortable to know he was around. One more

contradiction in a world of plenty.

I was almost asleep when he returned. He unlocked the short chain

holding my wrists to my ankles and got me on my feet.

"Looks like you need a shower," he remarked correctly.

I tried to convey a "yes, please" with my eyes, and was already

turning towards the main door of the stables when he gripped my arm.

"No, this way," he said, directing me to the opposite side.

He had me enter another large stall where he fixed my cuffed hands

to a ring in the ceiling. As far as taking a shower was concerned,

things didn't look too good.

When the jet of cold water suddenly hit my belly, the gag proved its

infallible efficiency. Without it, my screams would have been heard

in the closest town.

I began to squirm left and right to avoid the ruthless stream, but

he yelled at me to stay still and spread my legs. I instantly

obeyed, and clenched my fists to resist the urge to move. I turned

around when he asked me to, and turned again when he decided to

provide special treatment to my breasts and sex. I cried abundant

tears of frustration which I tried to cover myself with my arms, but

my state of distress remained visible and pathetic.

When he stopped the brutal shower and approached me with a towel, I

was shaking violently from the cold outside, the heat inside, and

something else I could no longer control. This last humiliation had

knocked down one more barrier inside me. Total collapse seemed only

one bondage trick away.

--GEOFFREY--

I didn't let Sabrina see my smile as I scooped her tremulous body

into my arms and carried her back to the house. My evening plans

would have to wait for another time; she was obviously in no

condition for anything but an extended period of uninterrupted

solitude.

Coincidentally, I had received an email from a bondage web site

renowned for its graphic depictions of "forniphilia," or human

furniture, requesting exactly the same thing just this morning. They

had been quite enchanted with my demonstration photos of Sabrina, and

had agreed to my asking price of $3,000 for a complete set; more than

enough to cover the case of Merlot she had smashed, not to mention

the mirror.

But she didn't need to know about that, nor did she seem to care

about anything except lying on the floor of his studio with her eyes

shut tight. So I cuffed her wrists over her head and went to work.

By the time she woke up, I had already laced the full-body corset up

to her thighs.

It had cost a fortune, but I was glad to have spared no expense.

Every contour of the leather was an exact match to the shape of her

limbs.

It started with a ballet toe for both her feet, supported by a

single eight-inch heel. Enhanced with long metal stays that ran all

the way up to her hips, the sleeve for her legs locked them together

as if glued. The leather's finish was deep, lustrous chocolate brown

polished to a mirror gleam.

She tried to sit up, but I pushed her back brusquely.

"Don't make me do that again."

I resumed lacing the corset up her legs to her crotch, where I had

already strapped a butterfly vibrator against her clit. I had

considered leaving in the butt plug from the afternoon session, but

opted for a different one that made up in length what it sacrificed

in circumference.

It took me a good half-hour to finish lacing the heavily-boned waist

section, pulling the strings as tight as I could to achieve an

hourglass shape Scarlett O'Hara would have killed for.

I uncuffed her hands and started working them, and the rest of her

arms, into the closed leather tubes extending from either side. When

I was finished, I continued lacing the corset over her chest and

around her neck to just beneath her chin.

"Time to say goodnight, Sabrina. I'd wish for pleasant dreams, but

I wouldn't count on them."

I inserted airport-grade plugs into her ears, followed by a large,

soft rubber ball that I squeezed down to half its size before

inserting it between her teeth. As it expanded to fill her mouth, I

began the final lacings up the front of her face and over the top of

her head. When I was finished, the only exposed part of her body

were two small air holes under her nose.

I took her arms and wrapped them across her torso like a

straightjacket. Then I rolled her over, and buckled the straps

descending from her hands tightly behind her back.

I picked up her stiff figure and maneuvered her over to the wall,

where two short lengths of chain hung vertically from hooks, and a

third dangled down from the ceiling. I padlocked the lower length to

a ring in the back of the corset just above her rump. The upper

length was maybe half a meter longer, and it was soon attached to

another ring just below her shoulders. The links from the ceiling

were mated with a metal hoop on top of her head.

"Ready to fly?"

I slowly lowered her body until it came to rest at a 45-degree angle

leaning forward from the wall.

I had to get an extension cord to plug in the butterfly vibrator. I

couldn't remember if I'd dialed up its lowest setting, but its quiet

humming suggested I had.

No matter, I decided. The result would be the same 12 hours from now.

I picked up the Polaroid and started taking test shots.

--SABRINA--

There was something awfully wrong with me. Instead of feeling angry

or terrified, which would have been normal reactions under such

circumstances, I experienced an uncanny sense of peace. I was

floating, with no attachment to the outside world whatsoever. If it

hadn't been for a tiny detail, I could have surrendered to the

hypnosis and forgotten I was alive.

I didn't even want to think anymore. While Geoffrey was turning me

into a leather statue, I tried to focus on the four days I would have

to endure until I would regain my freedom, but even that wasn't

enough to maintain a grip on reality. My life had been cornered in a

dead end, and I lacked the energy to climb over the wall.

However the tiny detail--the constant friction on my clitoris--

gained the upper hand over my moment of desperate peace, and my new

constant companion, lust, returned with a vengeance.

I was happy to realize that the only muscles I could move were those

I needed most right then. I contracted my vagina and felt sorry it

was empty. Fortunately, the anal plug was pressing on its walls, and

that pressure, combined with the clit stimulation, triggered the

first of many orgasms. Once they started, they seemed unstoppable.

La petite mort, they say in French. And while I was losing the last

shreds of sanity I had left, I thought it would indeed be a very nice

way to die.



(Continued in Association - Day 9)

***

Copyright © 2002 by Adrian Hunter and Chelsea Shepard. All rights

reserved. Please do not repost nor repurpose without permission.

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