Comfort by Sean Malone

The naked girl prepares herself in the playroom. First she fastens the cuffs above her elbows, and on her wrists and ankles. Each pair of cuffs can be clipped together by a strong, steel snap-lock fitted in between. The upper pair are also fitted with steel rings. She goes to the centre of the room. A strong rope hangs from a beam in the ceiling, and she pulls herself up to test its strength. It is firm; it will hold.

Something else is needed. She moves a three foot high, leather-covered bench under the rope, and hooks one end over a small wooden block set into the floor. She goes to the wall, where a sash cord runs through a fixed ring, up and over a pulley fixed to a beam in the ceiling, and then down to a heavy weight. She takes the end of the cord at the wall ring, pulls it towards the bench. The weight rises. She fastens the cord to the bench. It is ready. She knocks the bench over, and it slides slowly across the floor until it comes to rest against the wall. It works! She pulls it back to its position under the rope, and hooks it once more over the block.

Next she takes a large, black rubber ball gag fitted to a harness. It seems much too big, and stretches her jaw uncomfortably as she presses it firmly into her mouth. She tightens the straps which cross behind and over her head, winding a cloth over her mouth to hold the ball in place. Her mouth is filled, her tongue compressed. She is silenced.

A rope is tied to another ring set into the wall. She feeds its other end through the rings between her upper arms, then ties it again to the wall ring. She walks away from the wall. The rope tightens, pulling her elbows back, then closer together, closer. Click! The cuffs have snapped together. She is pinioned, her shoulders pulled back, her breasts thrust forward. She backs towards the wall to unfasten the rope; it is awkward with her elbows cuffed together. She pulls it free, then steps back to the bench.

She climbs up onto its high, padded surface and sits on her heels, her back to the dangling rope. She presses her ankles together, locking the cuffs. Now only her wrists have their freedom. She feeds the rope down between her locked ankles and pulls it through until it is taut, then a little more. Her ankles lift, and she has to balance on her knees. She pulls her ankles as high as she can, leaning back to balance while she knots the rope tightly. Her ankles are suspended, swinging a little from side to side as she moves. It feels unsteady. She pushes her arms back on either side of the hanging rope, presses her wrists closer, snaps the cuffs together.

Carefully now, carefully she leans until she tips forward, her forehead touching then sliding over the padded surface, her knees slipping back on the smooth leather. Her bare forearms slide down the coarse rope as her ankles are pulled up and forward towards her wrists, and then she is lying flat, her breasts pressing hard into the leather padding.

She jerks and twists now in her bonds. The rope is not tight yet, but she feels its hot friction between her arms with every movement. Her brown nipples rub against the leather, growing more sensitive the more she struggles. Her knees naturally slip apart, exposing the furry pelt between her quivering thighs, revealing the swollen ridge, the glistening tip of her clitoris peeping from the moist pinkness of her slit, betraying her readiness, her need.

Slowly she rolls to one side, over the side of the bench, tipping it free of the block and it slides away, leaving her suspended well above the floor, gently swinging from the ceiling rope in a classic hog-tie. Her arms are stretched up tightly, her wrists now inseparable from her ankles, her smooth, soft form arched in a backward curve, her breasts thrust outward as if offering the dark points of her nipples, her knees parting to reveal her soft pink wetness.

'Mmmmmm' is all that can be heard through her gag as she wriggles, swinging gently to and fro in the middle of the chamber.

18/11/01