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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.

***
"Something Just Clicked," a new collection of our bdsm short stories and novellas, is now available from Renaissance Ebooks

http://www.renebooks.com

***
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