A Passion for Bondage 2: Vicky's Story

A Passion for Bondage 2

Vicky’s Story, part two

by John Savage

Published by Running Wolf Books

Copyright 2019 John Savage

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means except by prior and express permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used as an element of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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Books by John Savage

Kuala Island Bondage Adventure

Pain is the Best Teacher

Paradise Hotel

Abandoned

Alien Property

Amazon’s Revenge

The Amazon and the Sacrifice

An Eternity of Pain

Brigand’s Captives 1

Brigand’s Captives 2

Compelled to Bondage

Conquering Dawn

Criminally Insane

Evil Woman

Gift Wrapped

Honor Slave

How to Turn a Bad Wife into a Good Slave 1

How to Turn a Bad Wife into a Good Slave 2

I Want Pain

I Want to be a Prisoner

Island of Submission

Loving Torment

Marla’s Submissive Secrets

Missing Penny

Enslavement for Two

Sold, Packaged and Shipped

Slavegirl in Training 3

Raven and the Slave

Nazi Terror

Planet of Slavers

Lunar Lockup

Rope Streaking

Ropes and Ice

Ropes and Spurs

Sacrifice to an Angry God

Savage World: Slave Bondage

Savage World 2: Revenge Bondage

School for Torture

School for Torture 2: Return to Hell

Slave of the Internet

Slave Safari

Slavegirl in a Kr’ll Prison

Slavegirl in Training

Slavegirl in Training 2

Slavegirl: Sandra’s Story

Serena’s Story

Slavegirls of Dragon’s Lair

Slavegirls of the Third Reich

Slaves of a Barbarian World

SS Unit 43

Strange Desires

Submissive of the Castle

Suffer, Witch, Suffer

Tales of the Rope

The Amazon League

The Barbarian and the Amazons

The Beauty and the Saddle Tramp

The Club

The Dungeon Master

The Fantasy Machine

The Ghost Who Loved Ropes

The Girl Who Loves Ropes

The Great Ponygirl Race

The Kinkiest Girl in Town 1

The Kinkiest Girl in Town 2

The Lord High Executioner

The Pirates and the Amazons

The Prince’s New Slavegirl

The Slave Who Sold Herself

Tanya’s Toy

The Taking of Sarah MacDonnell

Time Jump into Bondage

Time Jump into Bondage 2

Torture is My Business

Tortured Sacrifice

The Escape Artist Series

Escape Artist

Escape Artist 2 - Imprisonment in Japan

Escape Artist In Trouble

School for Escape Artists

The Great Escape Artist Contest

Deadly Escapes

Sled Speed, Private Dick Series

Kidnapped Sorority Sister

Kidnapped!

Experiments in Pain

The Case of the Kidnapped Countess

The Case of the Mad Scientist

Secret Agent Blaze Series

Tortured Spies

Blaze ‘n’ Saddles

Blaze to the Rescue

The Rope Girls Adventures

The Curse and the Rope 1

The Curse and the Rope 2

The Rope Girls and the Haunted Prison

The Rope Girls and the Las Vegas Vampires

Repression Series

Repression

Repression 2 - Rebellion

Repression 3 - Revenge

Repression 4 - Retribution

The Great Enslavement Series

The Great Enslavement 1

The Great Enslavement 2

The Great Enslavement 3

A Passion for Bondage Series

A Passion for Bondage 1: Vicky’s Story, Part 1

A Passion for Bondage 2: Vicky’s Story, Part 2

A Passion for Bondage 3: Vicky’s Story, Part 3

A Passion for Bondage 4: Double Kidnapping

A Passion for Bondage 5: Mayleen Gets Lucky

A Passion for Bondage 6: A Kinky Club Forms

A Passion for Bondage 7: The Long Timers

A Passion for Bondage 8: Hell’s Belles Halloween Party

Co-authored with Susan Strict

The Temple of Vesta

Two for Torture

The Barbarian and the Amazons

Non-BDSM books by John Savage

Blood, Lust and War

Demon for Hire

The Bone Breaker

The Punisher

Witches and Demons

The Frightened Ghost

Contact John Savage

John Savage can be reached at johnsavage@roadrunner.com or at his website: www.johnsavages.com.

Chapter 1: A Dark and Stormy Night

As I sat there, listening to the rain beating against the windowpanes, I reflected back upon the reason why I had nothing else to do. Or, more precisely, the reason why I could not do anything else but listen to the rain.

The problem, you see, was that I was quite solidly tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded. I had been naughty and this was my punishment. Not only were the ropes extremely tight but also I had been sentenced to six hours of this punishment, with only thirty minutes gone, leaving quite a long wait for freedom.

Further, not only was I strictly bound, I was naked. And there were two metal clamps attached to my poor nipples, providing a constant pain as a further reminder of my condition. It wasn’t a severe pain, but I certainly would have removed them had I been able.

It was a late November night during my twenty-fourth year of life. It was also the six-month anniversary of my divorce from a miserable excuse for a husband, Roger. In fact, it was because of Roger that I was in this uncomfortable position. If he had been more of a man, and performed his husbandly duties more often and with more vigor, I might not have dumped him. And if I had been satisfied with my sex life, I wouldn’t have set off on a search for some excitement.

I’ll try to make a long story short. Instead of simply looking for another man who might satisfy me, I did some research into what turns other people on. I had the feeling that I didn’t need just more sex, but something different. Do you have any idea how many weird perversions and fetishes there are? Almost as many as there are people. Well, not quite, but there are a great many things that people find sexy. And my reaction to most of them was: Ugh!

However… There was something that immediately set off alarms in my head. The sight of women tied up! There were websites aplenty on the Internet showing women tied up with ropes, handcuffed, restrained in leather devices, and in numerous positions and situations. I was immediately taken to that like a dog latching onto a bone. I began to imagine myself tied as those girls were, totally helpless and being used as a sex toy. That thought alone made me hot and wet.

Then a miracle happened. I met John. In a coffee shop. I was browsing through some very strict rope bondage photos on a website when this voice behind me asked if I was interested in that subject. John turned out to be an older man, mid-seventies, I think. I’m sure he was a very handsome man in his earlier years. Now he looked like a kindly grandfather. Or maybe a retired banker. After getting over my embarrassment at being caught looking at kinky photos, we got to talking. I still don’t know why, but I felt very comfortable with John and found myself telling him all about my failed marriage and how excited those photos made me and… Well, you get the idea.

The miracle was that John was incredibly knowledgeable in the area of B&D. That, of course, is Bondage and Discipline. Turns out he had been a photographer and writer for a whole series of B&D magazines years before, along with videos and such. In short, he was an expert.

When he showed me several albums of photos he had taken of women he had tied, I was hooked. The bondage in those photos was as good or better than the best I’d seen on the Internet. He was damned good. And he proved it to me the first time he tied me. And many times since.

We fell into a pattern of his coming over to my house and teaching me increasingly complex and stringent bondage. That averaged two or three times a week. I was loving it. I found that feeling truly helpless was very exciting and an aphrodisiac as well. When I get tied, I get horny as hell.

Even when putting me in strict bondage and, after a while, naked, he was a gentleman and never took advantage of me sexually. In fact, after a few months, when I decided that I wanted to see what sex was like while helplessly, tightly tied, I told him I would like him to screw me. He declined, saying that he couldn’t. Never said why, and I was too polite to ask.

So we reached a point we continued the afternoon meetings and strict B&D games, but made plans to branch out those games to include other people.

However, on the occasion I began relating, there was no one else present when he tied me to that chair and left me. I told him that I had been a bad girl, and was in need of corrective punishment. John, as always understood my need and tied me to the chair, added the nipple clamps as part of the punishment, and then left. He would be back in six hours, he said. Meantime I could enjoy my punishment alone.

To give you a better picture, let me describe how I was tied.

First off, it was not a normal chair. It was made with a thick steel frame. The four legs and seat were pretty much normal, as was the backrest. It came exactly to the right height for my arms to just fit over it. The legs were braced with cross pieces of steel, which made perfect places for tying a woman. Oh, and the seat was not padded as normal chairs. It was bare metal with a small hole right in the middle. That was so objects such as dildos could be inserted through the hole and into me. On that evening, the hole was not being used. Pity.

He began, as was common, by tying my arms together behind my back. That always began by tying the wrists together, then looping my elbows, pulling them tightly together and binding them that way. I was then ordered to sit on our custom-made bondage chair for the binding of my legs. I did, and he guided my arms over the back of the chair. My legs were tied at the ankles, and above and below the knees.

Rope was wrapped generously around my waist and my bound arms through the opening in the chair’s back. That rope was pulled very tightly, with the effect of pinning my arms against the backrest, and my bare back against the other side. The ropes were cinched down hard enough to make the binding even tighter, then knotted several times. John was very thorough and extremely secure in his binding.

A short length of rope was tied to that around my ankles and threaded between my forearms and around the rope on my wrists. Then back down to my ankles, back up and over the wrists again, then back to the ankles. When he pulled on that rope, my feet were forced back and under the chair. He didn’t stop pulling until my feet were close to my hands and completely off the floor. Not even my toes could touch the carpet. Not only did that secure my feet quite nicely, it also had the effect of pulling down on my arms and tightening the ropes around my wrists.

At that point I was quite solidly bound to the chair, but he was not finished. Even though I would be alone in my huge house with no neighbors anywhere near, I was gagged. John rolled up a wash rag, stuffed it in my mouth, wrapped elastic bandage around that, and then a dozen turns of duct tape, applied quite tightly to secure the gag. I knew from past experience that there would be no way I could force the gag off, and that speech was now denied me. Yet, although very effective, this type of gag was fairly comfortable over long periods. And since I was sentenced to six hours, it was much more comfortable than a ball gag. Note, I did not say comfortable, just more comfortable. Ball gags can get to hurting your jaw muscles after a while.

To assure that I felt as if I were in solitary confinement, he put a sleep mask over my eyes, then taped it down with more duct tape. I was then immobile, silent and blind. One would think that six hours of that would be punishment enough, but no! When I felt him grabbing my left breast, I whined. Sure enough, he was attaching a metal clamp around my nipple. It squeezed my poor flesh between two bars held shut by a strong spring. He attached another to my other nipple so it would not feel left out.