The Blackberry Patch

Angela was very pleased with the mid-summer weather on this Saturday morning. Only a few puffy white clouds dotted the sky, showing no hint of the gray, rain producing, bottoms to them that were so often the case on the coast of Maine.

To Angela, the weather seemed perfect to give herself a little adventure without being locked up in her chateaux. Today she would have her fun outdoors and enjoy the sun and the light breeze gently blowing in from the Atlantic. Angela was beginning to get extremely excited about her plans for her mid-morning activities; and the moisture in her panties was proving it.

Angela had thought of a plan that would make today’s self-bondage adventure the most extreme she had ever put herself in. She knew it would be extremely painful… pain was her friend.

Angela had been practicing self-bondage ever since she had found herself loving to watch people bound on TV when she was a young child. Her first time of binding her wrists and ankles happened when she was eight. She would use anything she could find that was long enough to securely bind her ankles and wrists. When she was bound she had feelings, almost like light electrical buzzing, run through her, which, she would not understand until she was fourteen and started to learn that the slit between her legs was not there just to pee through.

As the years progressed, she begun to put herself in ever-more-stringent binds, but, was never happy that she could only remain in them for a short while, so, her parents or her older brother nor her younger sister, would not find her lost in her fantasies which were brought while she was tied.

Angela was married just out of high school to her high-school sweetheart. Ben was the only man (and boy) she had ever been with. Angela believed they were soul-mates, giving herself to him the first time they had discussed sex. Her virginity became a thing of the past at the age of sixteen.

After she and Ben were married, they bought the little house, where she currently resides, after an unprecedented year in the abundance of fish. Ben worked as first-mate on a thirty-four-ton fishing boat. The boat, Sea Lady, and her crew had made five trips that summer with her hold filled to the brim with fish on each of them. The profits were amazing and Ben’s share set the two of them up fairly well and allowed them to almost buy the house outright.

The following year had not been as profitable as that amazing previous year, but, Ben made enough to buy out the small mortgage they had to get to cover the remaining amount they could not cover, with cash, when they purchased the house. They could have bought it outright when they purchased it, but, they needed to have some money in the bank to live on.

Angela had, embarrassingly and fearfully, told Ben about her love for bondage. He had accepted it with mixed emotions. They had tried bondage together a few times, but, Ben really didn’t enjoy sex nearly as much when his wife could not reciprocate in the touching and caressing during their intercourse. He preferred interaction between the two of them. He would tie her on occasion, just to help please her desires, but, it did nothing for him.

Ben told her she was more-than-welcome to continue her self-bondage, especially when he was gone for weeks at a time fishing. He would even allow her to tie herself up when he wasn’t out on the ocean. Furthermore, on occasion, he helped her into a harder, tighter tie if she wanted and could act as her safety should she be unable to free herself. She had only gotten stuck once, when Ben had assisted her a little too well. Ben’s only requirement was that she would not expend so much of her lust that she did not want sex with him. That was something Angela did not believe her libido would allow. She always become horny when Ben removed his shirt, showing off a highly defined six-pack and large pectoral muscles. Angela both hated and loved when Ben would walk around shirtless. It made it hard for her concentrate on anything other than throwing him down and fucking his brains out.

In Ben and Angela’s third year of marriage… tragedy struck.

The Sea Lady was three-hundred-fifty miles north-east of their home port when a monster of a storm changed its course after leaving Canada’s coast and began to traverse the Atlantic. The original forecast had it passing well over two-hundred miles north of the place Captain Giles guided Sea Lady and dropped their nets.

Waves, estimated by the US Coast Guard, had been in excess of sixty-feet, dwarfing Sea Lady. The ship, and her crew, were never seen again.

Angela lived in pretty much a vegetative state for about three months after losing Ben. Her financial future was set, thanks to the double-indemnity million-dollar insurance policy Ben had taken out on himself. Being lost at sea qualified the indemnity and she had received two million-dollars from the insurance company and one-hundred-thousand from his employer’s insurance. Yes, Angela was set finically, but she was emotionally bankrupt.

Now, two-and-a-half years later, she functioned normally. Angela had returned to her self-bondage after seven-months of being emotionally numb and lost; having absolutely no libido during that time. Her lust did not return all at once and progression of her desire for stimulation returned very slowly. But, now, her libido is back to normal, though, she still misses Ben’s love.

As her libido and lust for bondage returned, Angela started buying toys to allow her more options (and more excitement) during her self-bondage adventures. Her purchases were gradual, buying this and that each time her depressed sexual drive took another step up the ladder. Now, Angela has a pretty nice assortment of bindings and toys.

Angela filled a zippered canvas bag with the items she would need for her adventure. The bag; she had bought it for how durable it is, and, the fact that it could be locked closed; slightly bulged but was only of a moderate weight from her goody’s she had in it.

Angela dressed in blue jeans and a long sleeve shirt. She had put nothing on underneath however. She put on a pair of loose-fitting, hard-soled, heel-less shoes. She tucked the key to the padlock, which, would secure her bag, in her pocket.

Angela lifted her bag and put the carry strap over her left shoulder and headed out of through the front door, locking it behind her.

Angela crossed the plush green grass of her yard and headed to the Blackberry briar to the side and behind her house. She would pay some of the neighbor’s kids to pick the fruit when it was ripe and make preserves from their gatherings.

Angela reached the edge of the blackberry patch. She picked a bush and limb at random and hung the key to the bags lock on it, deep enough into the bush so retrieving it while she was bound would be difficult, and, painful.

 There were not many berries on the bushes at this time of year, but, enough that she could pick and eat some as she meandered through the tightly spaced growth. The space between them, and their over-growth, made it impossible to walk without having to push limbs away. The vicious thorns, shaped like cats claws, covering the branches were grabbing at her shirt and pants, hence, the reason she had worn them. She wanted to save the pain of the thorns until she was tied and unable to protect herself from them.

Angela went through the patch in a randomly zig-zag pattern, hoping to make finding the bush with the key more difficult to find. She only knew it was on the edge of the patch and close to her house.

After walking about one-hundred-yards into the patch, Angela found a small clearing. It was, however, big enough for her to do what she had planned.

Angela placed her bag in the center of the small clearing, knelt on her knees beside it and unzipped it

First, she pulled out a harness gag which had a large red ball attached to it. The ball was large enough that she had to force it in so it would fit between the teeth of her upper and lower jaw. Once in, she could not force it out with her tongue, even when it was not buckled around her head. She buckled the harness around her head anyway, pulling the straps much tighter than they need be. The straps caused the skin on her cheeks and jowls to indent. She locked it on her head with three little padlocks.

When the harness was secured, Angela stripped herself of her shirt and jeans and stood there naked and mute. Kneeling on her knees next to the bag again, Angela started pulling more items out and attaching them to their designed location.

First she put a small dog collar around the base of her 36C breast, pulling them tight. Both of her breast now stuck out and away from her body. Next she attached three-inch wide leather thigh cuffs tightly around each leg, a couple of inches above the knees, assuring herself that gravity nor herself could pull them down. They were on snug and where not going to leave the spot she had put them. She locked both with two more small padlocks. An eighteen-inch spreader was locked between the thigh cuffs, forcing her legs far enough apart so her gap was wide open and could not be closed.

She then locked ankle cuffs; the collar, wrist, thigh, and ankle cuffs being a matched set; onto each ankle and placed a much too long chain on them. The extra length having its own purpose.

Angela could feel her juices slipping down her vulva and down her inner thighs with each new piece she placed on herself.

She locked the four-inch wide leather collar tightly around her neck, but, loose enough that it would not interfere with her trachea nor her jugulars. When she started, she would need to be able to breath and have blood reach her brain.

She attached a short chain to the ‘D’ ring on the rear of her collar and let it lay against her spine.

Next came her butt plug; a hard core plug indeed—A Pear!

She lubed the Pear slightly and placed it against her anus, giving it a slight push. She felt the top of it slowly start increasing the circumference of her rear hole as it slid in further. Angela felt a slight pain in her rectal muscles as the widest point of the Pear stretched her anus. Finally, Angela felt her asshole start to shrink and her muscles help seat the device into its final position.

Once the Pear was seated in place, Angela started turning the handle on the screw. As she turned the screw, the Pear began to open itself inside her rectum. When fully open, she could barely handle how wide it splayed itself inside her. There was no way to remove it without tearing every muscle of her rectum, and, pulling half her rectum out with it. If she could handle it, she could be hung by the pear and it would not come out.

Once she had the Pear fully opened, there was a hole in the screw which a small padlock could be secured, locking the device in its fully open position, preventing removal without removing the lock first.

Angela attached another short chain to the ring-handle of the Pair. She locked the other end of the chain to the center of the chain between her ankles. Now, when she tried to stand as fully erect as the spreader between her thighs would allow, the ankle chain pulled hard on the Pear. She could fully stand if she brought her feet close enough together, but it caused the space between her legs to form a diamond shape, making her unable to walk while her legs were straight. Angela would have to walk with her knees bent, and, still, with each step the ankle chain would pull at the Pear locked in her ass.

Down to three more items before she secured her wrists.

Angela pulled out two sets of clover clamps. Each set were attached to each other by a long piece of nylon string. These clamps were especially painful as she had pulled the rubber of the pinchers out so bare metal would be against her skin.

Angela set down on her butt, trying, but failing, to keep from putting pressure on the screw protruding from her asshole. The screw handle hit the ground well before either one of her cheeks, causing the splayed Pear to jolt and move inside her. She grimaced loudly but the large ball in her mouth prevented the sound from emanating outside of her.

After a slight readjustment to her sitting position to remove the pressure between the screw and the ground, Angela pulled slightly on her inner labia. Though not huge, her inner lips were long enough to accept clamps being placed upon them. She placed one end of the two clamp pairs on each of her inner labia, squealing at the bite when she stopped squeezing the bites open. They hurt badly; she leaked more juices.

After giving her pussy lips a little time to become accustomed to their tormentors, she attached the other ends the engorged nubs at the end of each breast. As she released each clamp, a searing, burning pain shot through her. Her nipples made the complaint lodged by her twat seem like a mouse’s squeak. They really hurt and she wondered if she could complete her session with them biting so painfully upon her nipples. Angela decided she had come too far to wimp out now.

The strings between her left nipple and left labia; right nipple and right labia, were left very loose, making it easier for a limb, hanging across the path, to grab and pull on the string, thus, her nipples and pussy too.

Angela pulled out the last three items left in her bag and placed her clothes inside the bag. Only the keys to all of her restraints, her clothing and a small bottle of lube were in the bag now. She locked it shut and chained to a bush. Now she had no choice but finish her hard bondage session. The key to the bag was on one of the bushes at the edge of the patch. If the bag had not been locked to a bush, she could have carried it with her, making herself only have to walk one way, while tied, through the patch of Blackberry bushes; protecting their fruit by extremely sharp, extremely painful, thorns.

Pain will be name of this game… and… Angela reveled in, and, leaked heavily at the thought.

She attached a tens unit by its built in belt-clip to her right thigh cuff, running a set of leads to the clover-clamps attached to her inner labia. Then, she attached the second set of leads to the clamps tormenting her nipples.

She powered the unit on and set it to send a forty-five second shock at 75 hertz and a fifteen second off time. She ran a microphone up and placed it between her throat and the collar around it. The microphone being against her neck, and over her vocal cords, meant it would catch any sound her vocal cords made… not what, could not, come out of her mouth.

Angela turned up the power to each lead. She could feel the power of the electricity grow in her nipples and labia with each push of the button. She had set the power of each to just under the point of being uncomfortable. Then, she made a noise in her throat. The power of the shock jumped by seventy-five percent, causing her muscles in her chest and pelvis to contract and retract uncontrollably for the two seconds it was set to punish for sound. After ten times of being activated, the amount of time the punishment would last increased by two seconds. It would continue to increase by two seconds with each cycle of ten sounds.

Now Angela put a thick leather blindfold on and locked it to her head harness. The blindfold pulled tightly against her eyes. Just in front of her eyeballs where quarter-inch holes, allowing her a little view straight in front of her, but, all peripheral vision being cut off. At the ends of the blindfold’s straps were ear-plugs. She pushed them deep into each ear. She focused, but could no longer her the ambient background noise of chirping birds.

Angela picked up the wrist-cuffs; already locked together with a short chain; and padlocks to complete her bondage and make it completely inescapable without the keys; not that she could escape anything but the electricity and clamps; now.

With cuffs in hand and lying on her back, propping herself up on her elbows, Angela reached down and increased the electricity from just below her comfort limit to just above her comfort limit. Now the electricity was not buzzing, but, burning.

Quickly, Angela buckled and locked a cuff around her left wrist. Binding herself was being made much more difficult by the electricity zapping her nipples and pussy. She buckled and locked the other cuff around her right wrist. Her hands being locked behind her, now she could not protect herself from the Blackberry branches wanting to unleash their self-protection thorns upon her helpless, unprotected, body.

However, just having her hands cuffed behind her back was not enough for Angela. Now, she had to make it uncomfortable as well.

Bending her arms at the elbow, padlock in her right hand, Angela pushed her arms as far up her back, as she could, towards her shoulder blades. Using her elbows against the ground, she gained more leverage and pushed her hands further up her back. She found the chain she had attached to her collar. Using the padlock, she locked the chain between her wrists, to the chain attached to her collar. Once locked, she was in a fairly tight reverse-prayer. She could push her arms up enough to relieve the pressure of the collar being pulled tighter against her neck, but, at the cost of her arms and shoulders getting tired and sore. When she rested her arms, the collar pulled against the front of her neck. Not tight enough to strangle her, but, enough for her brain to enter auto-panic mode and believe that she’s being strangled.

Now, it was time for her to start her adventure.

The Blackberry bushes were too tall to see over and too close together to see through. Angela had to get her bearings. But, first she had to get off her ass.

Angela had to work at standing and the electricity made thinking very hard. If power is left to run on the body continuously, it will eventually get used to it and it not hurt as badly after a while. By having the power shut off for fifteen seconds of each minute, the body doesn’t get a chance to get used to it and, when it comes on for the other forty-five seconds, it hurts just as bad as when it had been first applied. A little torture trick Angela had learned while trying different modes on the device.

Trying to right herself and make it to her feet, Angela’s shoes fell off her feet. She has the loose fitting, heal-less shoes just for the purpose of walking on sharp or painful ground while bound. It added another thing to have to think about; keeping the loose shoes on while walking.

After several struggles, and, one grunt which she paid dearly for, Angela made it to her feet. The ground was painful on her bare feet from years of fallen leaves and branches from the plants which encapsulated her from the rest of the world.

Angela, her vision being extremely limited and the semi-tall collar being locked to her arms behind her, made looking down very difficult. She decided it would be easier to chicken-scratch to find her shoes. “Hurt my feet or choke myself… that’s my only two options.” She thought to herself, not daring to make a vocal sound. “That last punishment shock hurt like a mother-fucker!” Angela reminding herself.

By moving her feet around, Angela finally found her shoes and slipped them on her feet. Though she still had many hours of daylight left, she wanted (needed) to get moving. She knew she would need a lot of time to complete her bondage session, and that was if she went straight to her key and straight back to her bag. But, she knew she would have to do some wondering around to find each location again.

Angela tried to straighten her legs and was rudely reminded by the pulling in her ass that she could not do it without her feet completely together. She had them about two feet apart to make the spreader more comfortable. Now her butt throbbed from the sudden jolt of the tensed chain it had received.

Getting her bearings by knowing where she put the bag down, and, the angle she was at when she did it, Angela had a basic idea of which way to start out.

Naked and unable to use her hands to move them away, the branches of the bushes looked as if there were no way through them. She knew there was, else, she could not be her. Angela began to force her way through the crisscross of branches—thorns becoming very painful, quite immediately.

As she slipped between branches, Angela tried to plan her trip through the jungle of jutting branches, which were trying to teach her not to get too close. Angela found out quite early, the cost of letting a branch catch hold of the strings between the clamps. It hurts to high-heaven when they do.

Being mostly blind and completely deaf made maintaining her bearings, and staying on course, very difficult. With her ears she would be able to hear the cars driving on the road a couple hundred yards away, allowing her to know where the road was and help her know which way she was heading. Her deafness took that away from her. She could only hope she was heading in the right direction. If not, she could walk for hundreds of yards through these torturous plants, maybe even end up coming out next to the road for the passing motorists to see. That, Angela though, would make dying out here the preferable option.

As she pushed her way, as carefully as possible, through the jutting branches, occasionally, some would swing back and hit her on her ass, upper thighs, or lower back, when it sprung back after she passed it and it slipped free of her body.

Thorns scratched across her tits, her stomach, her thighs, her pubis, her face—as she made her way through. Scratches forming small blood trails on the front and along her sides, welts formed on her ass, thighs, and, back from the branches which acted like switches when they swung back. Little pin pricks of blood formed on her hind-side, from the thorns on the branches that hit her back there.

A particularly stiff and stubborn branch caught hold of both strings and pulled viciously at her nipples and labia. Angela let out a scream into her gag as the branch tugged hard on them. The pain of her sensitive spots being pulled and heavily jolted by electricity she received as punishment made her scream more, unable to control herself as the pain continued to wrack her body.

By the time she could stop, and, could not quite understand how she did, Angela was well into the shocks lasting for four-seconds now. She only had a few more before she would be at six-seconds each.

Getting the branch to release the strings took a good ten-minutes. They were caught pretty well, but, had not wrapped around anything, so she eventually got them free.

Pain inflicted Angela upon every sensitive spot of her body. She had already cum once and could feel the next orgasm growing deep inside her woman hood. A branch had pulled on her right string and lifted the clover on her labia, up to touch her clit. She had already been quite ready, but, when the electricity entered her clit, she exploded. Afterwards, Angela’s legs told her they needed her to sit so they could recover, and, were shaking quite violently while holding her weight up. However, each step she took, causing the chain to pull lightly on the wide-spread Pear, reminded her that trying to sit down without her hands to ease her down would be a mistake. Angela had to fight her buzzing and shaking legs.

She hoped she could stave off the orgasm building deep within her loins. She needed more time to recover from the last, or, her legs may mount a revolt. She concentrated on putting this orgasm on the back burner, the electricity running through her pussy, and, her nipples for that matter, arguing strongly against it.

More scratches on her front, more whips to her back, more tugs on her strings; Angela continued her trek. Questioning herself on just how smart this whole idea was. She thought maybe she shouldn’t have gone quite so far in for the first time; maybe she could’ve used patches for the electricity instead of these mother-fucking clamps. Angela thought of a dozen ways she could have made this easier, all while attempting to navigate through the merciless treatment the bushes and their overgrown branches reaped upon her body.

Angela thought she could see the depth of the bushes getting thinner. She thought her limited vision, or, her desire to be done with this—wasn’t three orgasms enough—might be playing tricks on her. However, after making her way between the next set of grabbing, scraping, tugging, bushes; she could see her backyard. She only had to make it past one more set of bushes and she would be out of the briar.

By exiting the Blackberry patch at her backyard, she knew she was about fifty-yards, or so, away from where she had entered the patch, thus, from where she had hung her key.

The spare keys to all her locks were in her bedroom and wished she could get them and release herself now. She knew that she had locked the door when she left, however… entry was impossible.

The feeling of being hopelessly bound, at this point, and the knowledge of only being halfway to being released, along with the desire to be released, completely helpless to do anything about it, started a wave of lust to her pussy she could not ignore.

Angela turned to the closest bush and purposely caught the left string on a branch. She pulled, trying to work the labia clamp up to her clit. After a couple attempts, she felt the clip rub up against her over-sensitive, under-sexed, button. She lost it then regained it. The electricity made her nub buzz. Angela tried to dry-fuck the clamp against her clit. Her orgasm was building but not nearly as quickly as she wanted (needed). Holding the clamp against her most sensitive spot, she coughed on purpose. The jolt of electricity against her clit made her buck and scream. By the time the orgasm swept over her and lay behind her, Angela was up to eight-seconds of torturous high-powered jolting.

The only reason Angela was able to stop the high-powered shock to her clit (and, yes, her labia and nipples as well) was her legs finally buckled and she went down to her knees, pulling the string from the branch and dropping the clamp away from her clit. Otherwise, her ten-minute orgasm might still be trying for twenty.

Angela collected herself and reminded herself that she still had a lot of work to do and a lot of pain to endure.

Finally realizing she was in plain view of the road, though, about two-hundred-fifty yards away, and immediately snuck back into the briar.

“Now I have a choice to make.” She thought to herself.

“Do I want to take the painful route and stay out of sight of the road, or, do I want to take the painless route and be in full view of the road and walking closer to it?” Angela’s thought turning into a question.

She decided she would combined the two.

Angela began to walk in the clear, but, right up next to the briar. When she thought she could see a car, she jumped quickly into the patch, unable to know exactly where or what she was jumping into with her peripheral vision blocked.

After having to jump into the briar a half dozen times, the fourth bringing tears to her eyes as she had pulled very hard against the Pear, she had made it to the approximate location where she had placed the key to her bag. It didn’t take her long to find it when she noticed it glittering in the sunlight.

Angela backed up to the bush where she had put the key, cursing herself for the idea of placing it so deeply in the bush. As she pushed herself deeper into the bush, she was assaulted by what seemed to be thousands of needles.

She finally managed to remove the key and hold it in her hand. Angela felt the warm satisfaction of her partial victory try to center in her loins. She was finally halfway to being free. But, only halfway.

The problem she had now was trying to find a ten-foot by ten-foot clearing in three-hundred acres of Blackberry briar. On her way out, she was looking for a huge clearing which could be found simply by heading in a general direction. Now she would have to find the proverbial ‘needle in the haystack’ or, maybe more accurately, ‘the haystack in the needle box’.

Angela, key in hand, headed in the direction she hoped she needed to head.

Threading herself through the gauntlet of sharp, unforgiving, thorns; Angela continued her hike. The pain of the electricity was hurting much worse than in the beginning; she could only guess, might be three hours ago. Her nipples and labia sore beyond belief, not just from the electricity flowing through them, but, from the hard bite the clamps were ravaging upon them. Her arms were numb and her shoulders were burning like there were red hot pokers being stuck into them. She had put herself in a reverse-prayer before, but, not for this long and not while doing anything this stringent. Even the gag in her mouth was making her jaw hurt and she had worn it for a much longer periods of time than she has so far today. Her asshole… well, that’s a whole other thing.

Angela was extremely pissed off at herself for using the Pear. She’s afraid she may have done some damage down there. Remembering what the original Pear was designed for; during Mid-Evil times; tearing a woman’s vaginal canal and cervix to shreds and, eventually, but very slowly, leading to her death; she was afraid that was happening to her rectum. Granted, her Pear doesn’t have the spiked hooks on the end as did the Mid-Evil ones, but, it was widened out to over six inches in diameter. And, she felt every bit of it. She hurt deep inside her ass from the tugging the chains had been causing. When she had started out, Angela found those tugs erotic, causing a slow build-up of ecstasy. Now, she dreaded each step she took, as each step had become painful.

Angela walked. Cursing herself with each step for meandering while walking to find a spot she could bind herself. There was no way she could remember what turns she took and how far she travelled on each. She began to believe that finding that one particular spot within these fucking cat-claw bushes was going to be all but impossible.

Angela sobbed, ensuring that nothing vibrated her vocal cords, tears blurring her already severely limited sight. She continued to walk, fluttering her eyelids in an attempt to clear the sight-blurring tears. Eventually it worked, though she still felt like she had seriously bitten of more the she could chew.

Angela stepped around a large bush which had numerous branches grabbing at every part of her body, the majority being breast high. As she pushed through, her tits took one hell of a beating. The thorns catching into her skin and being torn out. Luckily, she got through without the bush tugging at the strings which would cause her overly-abused nipples and lips nothing but misery.

When she got passed the bush, Angela heard a faint and muffled, “Holy-Shit!” Her heart sunk in her chest. Her ears might be plugged, but that doesn’t make you hear things that aren’t there.

“Who’s in my fucking Black-berries?” Angela thought angrily.

“My God, you are one hot looking woman. Why are you tied up like this? The strange man invading her briar asked.

Angela didn’t understand much of what he said. He had yelled before, so she had heard it. He spoke in a conversational tone and quite quickly this time, making it hard for her to hear. She shrugged her shoulders in response and turned the side of her head to him, hoping he would notice the earplug firmly sunk into it.

He did, pulling out the earplug on the side she had turned to him out. Then he pulled out the left one. He looked over the head harness and realized, she might be able to hear him now, but, figured it was going to be a very one-sided conversation. He also noticed he would not be seeing her eyes either, due to the blind-fold being securely locked in place too.

“I will ask you yes or no questions… I can’t get that contraption off of your head and allow you to talk.” The scrawny man with a face-full of acne said.

“Are you ok? He asked.

Angela, being unsure how to answer this question. A yes or no question, which, in her current predicament, was as open ended as the wide sky above. She shook her head no, then shrugged her shoulders, then nodded her head yes; hoping he would get the jest of what she was trying to convey. She’s not in danger but she does need help, is what she was trying to say; though, still unsure about the condition of her rectum.

“Slowly try to say the words through the gag. I will try to listen closely and figure them out.” He said to Angela.

Angela shook her head vehemently, then turned her right leg to him which the tens unit was clipped to. She thrust her breasts up, hoping he would see the wires attached to the metal clips, the wires still carrying their torturous electrical shocks forty-five seconds of each minute.

“Mother-fucker! Is that shocking you? He asked Angela, looking somewhat concerned now.

Angela nodded her head hard… unfortunately for her, hard enough that the microphone rubbing against the leather collar and registering enough sound to fire an eight-second jolt of the punishment level of electricity into her lips and nips. She fell to her knees as the jolt took her by surprise, and, was now too much for her to endure and remain standing.

He knelt down beside her. “How do I…” Being unsure how to turn the little box off, he pulled the connectors out of the top where they were plugged in.

“Oh my God… Thank You!!!” Angela screamed into her gag, now that she could vibrate her vocal cords without paying a heavy penalty. Her words may have been incomprehensible, but, she said them anyway.

The man helped Angela back to her feet.

“I take it your happy I unplugged those.” He said.

Another overly-exaggerated nod from Angela. Then she stuck her breasts out again and jiggled the clamps squeezing her buds excruciatingly tight.

“I’m guessing you want those off too…” Angela nodded emphatically again. “But, hold on.” The young man said, then continued, “I have no idea what is going on with you, or, why for that matter. I’m not sure if I want to get too far involved until I can sort things out a little bit with some more questions. I just didn’t need that little box thingy keep dropping you to the ground while I’m trying to figure this out a little.”

Angela wished he could see the pleading in her eyes and the tears starting to build.

“Now, did someone do this to you? He asked.

Angela shook her head.

“That leaves that you did it to yourself.” The man said surmising the only other option.

Angela nodded her head.

“I’d love to ask you why you would do such a fucked-up thing to your beautiful little body, but, right now I couldn’t get no answer.” The young man said.

“Is that your bag I ran across over yonder? He asked.

She was close Angela thought. She nodded in the affirmative.

“Are you trying to get back to it?” The stranger asked, raising one eyebrow.

Again, Angela nodded.

“Is that how you can remove all this stuff? He asked, now starting to get the picture of what she was doing.

Another nod.

“Would you like me to help you get back to your bag?” He asked the very tightly bound sexy woman standing nude in front of him.

Another rapid and excited nod.

“Now…” the man started, pondered the words he was looking for, then continued once he had found them,” …I ask myself why I should. This is some pretty sick and perverted shit you have done. I… I have to say… this is really, really fucked-up. And, I don’t understand. So, I wonder, why should I help a girl who is obviously quite a mental case.” The man just stared at her for a few moments, knowing she couldn’t make a comment in her defense to what he just said.

He looked down at the clamps held tight on her pussy lips and shook his head.

“I’d hate to think of what is holding that chain up that leads to your ass.” He said, almost inquiring, but not actually. “I notice you have the chain too short to straighten your knees unless your feet are together. And, I am quite sure it leads to something stuck up your ass. I just wonder what you could have up there that would not be pulled out with the amount of jerking I suspect you have done.” The man looking quite dumbfounded during his ramble.

Angela listened to him, but could only shrug her shoulders when he finished.

“Your nipples and pussy look like they are quite sore and in a lot of pain. However, I think I deserve some kind of reward if I help you.” The pizza faced boy, man, whatever, said to her with an upturned brow again.

“Oh fuck… here it comes. He wants me to let him fuck me or me to suck him off.” Angela told herself in her head. Angela had read him spot on.

“You promise to let me have my way with you, for, say, an hour, and I will help you. That means no yelling rape to the police. I have a phone that takes pictures and I am going to take some of you… for… protection, if you know what I mean. You have a few very identifiable birthmarks just below your waistline. I will be sure to photo them since your face is too covered for someone to know who you are should I need to show condition in which I found you. Yes, it is a form of blackmail, but you’re the one in pain right now. I could just eat a few more berries and be on my way.” The stranger said to her, folding his pencil-sized arms across his scrawny chest.

“Imagine that. This punk doesn’t just want to rape me, he wants me to consent to it and give him rights over my body for an hour. And he thinks I’m the freak!? But, what other option do I have. I have no idea which direction my bag is in. He does. And, worse of all, it is getting late and there’s only a couple more hours of sunlight left. Son-of-a-mother-fucking-bitch! As bad as I have fucked myself, maybe I should let him do me too. I need out of this shit.” Angela thought to herself, weighing her options; which, sadly, there were very few of.

The man picked a plump-ripe berry and popped it in his mouth.

“Do we have a deal?” He asked.

Angela’s shoulders slumped as much as her bonds would allow. She lowered her head as well. Her head nodded almost imperceptibly.

“I’m not sure if that was a nod or not. I need something a little more… visible.” He remarked.

Reluctantly, Angela nodded her head where it was much more noticeable.

“Damn…” He pulled out his phone and started taking photos of her, including a close-up of her birthmarks, making sure they were visible along with the clips hanging between her legs, then another, showing the same clips and the spreader holding her knees apart. The chain attached to the Pear clearly visible as well.

“…I think you can use this while I take you to your bag. Shhh… be very, very, quite.” He said, ending in a very poor imitation of Bugs Bunny.

He plugged the leads back into the power box. Ignoring Angela’s plea’s for him not to. The electricity, being off for so long, almost buckled her knees. The pain was worse now than it had been all day, lest the punishment setting.

She walked, he guided. He guided by having hold of the strings attached to her clamps. He also let the limbs he moved out of his way swing behind him… striking Angela like nail-covered switches. She stifled back every cry however. If she was punished and fell down while he was holding the strings, she feared it would rip her labia and nipples clean off.

He only led her about fifteen or twenty yards when they came to the clearing.

“There’s your bag. I noticed it was locked. I hope you have the key.” He stated to her.

“Oh fuck. The key. Do I still have it?” Angela had forgot about the key in her hand, unable to feel it in her numb hand and, was worried she may have dropped it during one of the many bouts of punishment the box had inflicted for her making noise.

She moved her hand and could barely feel something press into the meat underneath her nerve-dead skin. She still had it. She nodded to the man who she had agreed to let forcibly fuck her.

“Ok.” He moved behind her and she opened her right hand, allowing him to take her key.

“Let’s see if you have anything else in here.” He said walking to the bag locked to the base of a Blackberry bush.

He unlocked the bag and opened the zipper. He found the keys to her bindings, her clothes, and a small tube of KY, but nothing else.

“Damn… nothing.” He said, obviously hoping to find something else he could use on her.

He reached down between her held apart legs and grabbed the clamps, intending to remove them to allow himself unfettered access to Angela’s pussy.

“Holy Crap!” He said, pulling his hands back quickly. “How can you handle that much electricity on your pussy. That fucking hurt my hands. Son-a-bitch! I can still feel it.” He said, obviously unaware of how much painful electricity Angela was being subjected to.

“Your nipples getting that much too? He asked.

Angela nodded.

He traced the lead wire from Angela’s pussy up to the power box and pulled the lead out. Now, feeling safe to do so, he removed the clips from her labia. Angela howled into her gag at the pain of the circulation being allowed to feed her nerve endings again. The howl battered her nipples with, now, ten-second blasts of nearly double what she has been getting all day, minus her interview period where this guy was nice enough to remove the power. Remembering quite quickly however, that this was the same guy whom reattached the power leads.

While the punishment level was activated, Angela screamed and cried, adding another ten seconds to the time of her punishment for each noise she made. Soon, it was adding twelve seconds.

The man stood and watched Angela writhe from the pain in her nipples. Surely not willing to touch the clamps, and, too interested to remove the plug.

Drawing all her will and strength, Angela focused on stopping her vocal cords from making a sound. When she was finally able to quit, she had built up a fair amount of time to count down before the power level returned to its primary setting. Angela suffered through and finally the power dropped.

“Fuck! I’d hate to know how much electricity it is when that little fucker kicks into high gear.” He commented, then, “One hour… right?” He finished by verifying.

Angela nodded.

“And I have your full consent?” He asked.

Angela nodded again, but, understood that consent could not be given under duress, threats, or, torture. However, there was the one sticky point; none of the torture she was going through was by his hand, originally. It had been done, solely and completely, by my hand. Angela thought that to be a loophole as big as the fucking St. Louis Arch.

The man grabbed her and laid her down, bent at the waist, head on her bag, ass in the air. This was the first time he got a look at the device in her ass. He quickly noticed the lock. He placed two fingers through the ring, which obviously doubled as a handle, and pulled hard on the plug in her ass.

Angela tensed her whole body but held the cry that wanted to be released.

The man had noticed a surprisingly small amount of movement in her anus. He pulled again, harder this time. Same amount of movement.

“Mother-fucker! How in the fuck could you have ever gotten that in if it will absolutely not fucking budge?”

Though it was extremely painful right now, she really hoped he could not figure the device out. Angela knew if he did, he would put his cock up there and the Pear had already made it way too sore to be fucked.

“Damn it! That handle is going to hurt when I bump into when I am ramming you.” He said. “I have to figure this damn thing out.”

He thumbed through the keys he had pulled out of her bag, eliminating the ones obviously too big to fit the little lock. Then, he started trying each of the keys that looked as if they could fit the lock.

“Fuck, he’s going to figure it out.” Angela cried to herself.

He found the key and Angela felt a resounding little click resonate through the stainless steel spread wide in her ass. Then, she felt the screw begin to turn and the pressure of the expanded fingers start to collapse.

“By Joe, I think I’ve got it.” This time a terrible English accent trying to sound like Dr. Watson from Sherlock Holmes.

Angela felt him keep twisting the handle and the Pear collapsing within her. The lack of expansion still not providing her sore rectum any relief. He continued to turn the handle until it stopped turning. He gave it an experimental tug and watched as her anus started to extend outward. He kept pulling. The Pear first made her anus look engorged and then slowly yield the widening pear-shaped steel. Her rectum finally released the plug from within her. He was happy to see it was clean.

Experimentally, he started opening the device again by turning the screw back the other way. When he could see he could get the lock back into the hole, he could not believe how big the diameter of the three expanding parts had grown to.

“God Damned! No wonder it didn’t fall out and I couldn’t pull it out.” He stated.

He noticed her pussy was completely dry and could not get a finger into her without pushing hard, making her ass flinch, obviously from the pain of being entered dry. He reached under her and started rubbing her clit. Angela gave no response.

“I’m amending the rules bitch.” He barked and gave her ass a hard, open-handed swat. “One hour or until you cum. That’s the new rules. Better start working on enjoying this.”

It wasn’t him, or the thought that she had to get fucked by him to gain her release that had Angela so dry. The pain had lost all excitement for her hours ago. She had turned the box way too high for how long this adventure would take. And, she did not believe she could give him that orgasm while her nipples where being so heavily abused by electricity.

He fingered her clit some more, trying for some kind of reaction from her. She wiggled her butt a little, obviously trying to coax herself into a little enjoyment. Angela remained dry however.

Using the lube, he had found in the bag, he greased his hard cock after he had dropped his pants and underwear. He also applied a generous amount to her vaginal opening, working it into the canal with his fingers. To his entry with his fingers, Angela did give a response. He entered her, gently, then started rhythmically stroking his cock with her pussy. More reaction from Angela.

Angela had not had a real cock in her pussy since her deceased husbands. It felt good. Her lips were extremely sore from the clamps and electricity, but it felt good. Though, she thought to herself, he’s a little on the small side for her liking. She was right, he was not well endowed, nor, for that matter, even quite average size. However, Angela knew now that she would be able to live up to the, one sided, new rule. She could feel herself starting to build. It may take most of the hour, but, she was building.

Angela lost what she had built up when he pulled out of her just prior to his climax and plunged his cock fully into her ass to release his load. It had really hurt when he rammed it into her ass. She hadn’t even had anal sex with her husband. Plus, he rammed it into her using only the residual lube from her pussy, not bothering to spread any on her ass before changing, and, just rammed it in. No easing in, one hard slam into the back door.

His ramming her mostly dry mixed with the soreness the Pear had inflicted, and the lack of stimulation in her pussy, made her building climax collapse like a house of cards in a breeze.

He pumped her in the ass, giving her what little he had to offer, for several minutes; working himself up to another orgasm. His previous deposit had helped with the lubrication factor while he pumped harder and faster to allow himself to edge closer to his second release. She felt him tense up, burying his shaft as deep into her ass as he could and release an amazing amount into her considering he had came less than ten minutes earlier.

When his spasms subsided, he pulled his cock out of her ass. To Angela’s surprise, and much to her chagrin, the bastard replaced the clamps back on her inner labia and plugged the lead back into the power box. The pain was immediate and immense.

He pulled his shorts and pants up and bent over behind her head.

“You release and relieve yourself you fucking side-show freak cunt. Have a nice life.”

With that, Angela felt him place the keys to her release in her hands and walk away.

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08.10.16