Plaything 32



free rope bondage Bondage stories 2011 archive


He cut her elbows free and pulled off the stocking hood. He turned on the lights
to blind her and turned on the water to stun and clean her. She hit the tile
wall and suddenly her legs wouldn`t support her anymore. Hysteria and exhaustion
combined to knock he down. She slid to the floor, the water beating down on her,
the steam peeling the tape from her mouth. Her balled-up shirt sleeve drooled
from her mouth like a big white worm.
She lay on the tile floor, naked, her lips finally free, and only her wrists
tied. The water pounded down all around her. Her brain told her to fun, to
fight, to scream, but she could do none of it. She had emptied her bladder and
her intestines; she had been cleansed. Now all she wanted to do was sleep.
Justine Grayson`s hands popped out of the soaking wrist bonds the second she
lost consciousness.
Morning came to the school some hours later, as it always did. The staff arrived
first and set about their duties. The teachers came next. The music teacher was
pleased to see the performance curtain was in place. Finally the students
arrived, racing to their assigned rooms. By eight in the morning, the
establishment was crammed with activity.
Only the principal was unhappy that Ms. Grayson was not in her proper place, nor
had she called. An assistant principal would have to fill in until they could
call a substitute. This was not good for her permanent record ... not good at
all.Ms. Grayson was present, however. Downstairs, below the music room, where the
orchestra and chorus would rehearse all day, was the custodian` s office-- that
little room beyond the throbbing furnace where he kept his radio, television,
hot plate desk, and cot. A bathroom was just down the concrete hall from it.
Ms. Grayson was there, lying on her side, on his cot. She was not naked, as she
had been. The custodian had a key to the uniform closet. He had gotten a
blue-and-white cheerleading minidress a few sizes too small for her.
The sleeveless V-neck torso section adhered to her like a lower layer of skin.
Most of her breasts bulged out, being just barely held in by her nipples. The
pleated miniskirt just barely covered her cunt and ass, her long legs stretching
to the very edge of the cot.
Her wrists were crossed and tied behind her with rope. They were placed in the
small of her back where more rope attached them to her waist. Her shoes were
back on, her ankles crossed and bound, then bound again to the legs of the cot.
Ropes wrapped her thighs. Another rope circled her neck several times and was
lashed to the legs at the head of the cot.
Her T-shirt was balled in her mouth. Her blue skirt was folded, encircling her
head twice, keeping it in. More ropes secured the new gag further. Over her eyes
he had placed squares of white tape.
The custodian looked at his prize. If he played this exactly right, he never
would be suspected. If he kept her blindfolded, she wouldn`t know it was him
doing it. If things got tight and hot, he could always move her back under the
stage. Meanwhile, he could make his sick, perverted fantasies come true.
Tonight, after everyone had left and he had completed his day`s due, he could
get his reward. He`d tie her ankles wide to the pipes above her head. Her back
would still be on the cot, her wrists cinched, her screams stilled, and her
vision obscured. He`d have Justine Grayson right where he wanted her.



The spa`s owner had sent the repairman down to the filter room to see what was
the matter. The whirlpool baths were getting too hot. There seemed to be
something wrong with the cold-water supply. The repairman had to follow the
pipes into the engine room, which was where he found Megan Rogers.
The blond bombshell had slowly, carefully worked on a pipe fitting behind her
until she had unscrewed a bolt, creating a cold-water leak. It was the one thing
which had kept her sane and pliant during her long captivity.
The repairman took one look at her tight, buoyant form. He grabbed the silver
spandex hood and yanked it off. He took one look at her wild blond hair and her
blinking deep green eyes set in the sensual face.
Megan`s breath caught in her throat, but then the repairman shot to his knees
and started to roughly untie her from the pipes. He shoved her forward, her
breasts squeezing against the engine as he picked at her wrist and elbow knots.
His knees were on her hips and ass as he pulled at her ankle and knee bonds.
She yelled at him to undo her gag, but he only grunted, commenting, "They
must`ve worked long and hard to get you in this position, baby. What happened?
Some jealous aerobic babes eliminating the competition? Or did some iron-pumping
assholes want you all for themselves?
He slapped her on an exposed ass cheek, laughing, then continued to carefully
undo the ropes. Even so, relief flooded Megan`s mind. It was good to know that
despite what she had gone through she could still think clearly enough to devise
and implement this plan. No matter how crude this guy was and how funny it
seemed to him, she would soon be out of this mess.
It wasn`t until she found herself dropping a half-inch, then rolling onto her
back, that she realized the truth. She was still bound. She was still gagged. He
had only undone the ropes which held her to the pipes.
The repairman stood above her, one foot on either side of her body. He reached
down and gave one of her strong, full, round tits a squeeze. "Shame to keep this
all to themselves," he mused with an evil smirk.
Megan screeched and started to contort-kicking with her knees and ankles still
cinched.
Some minutes later, the spa owner poked her head into the engine room. "Is it
fixed yet?" she demanded.
"Almost," said the repairman. "One small nut had worn away and a pipe had come
loose. I have it reconnected and the temperature should even out in a few
hours."
"A few hours!" the spa owner exclaimed. "Can`t you speed it up?"
"Tell you what," said the repairman, coming around the engine to face her. "I`ll
see what I can do. I`ll trace every inch of cold water piping and see if I can
find any other leaks. I`ll do whatever I can to see that everything is working
properly."
"Ahem," the owner muttered. "Well, that`s all right then. I`ll be in my office."
"Very good," said the repairman, watching her walk across the dark, deep cellar.
"I`ll be up in a few hours."
He waited until she went upstairs, closing the door behind her, before he
turned, walked away from the engine room, and into the filtering section. Around
the bend, away from view, Megan Rogers hung from some more pipes.
These pipes were horizontal, near the low ceiling, and much thicker than the
ones before. There would be no undoing these cement lengths.



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