Upon opening my eyes, I feel like a ragdoll: limp and useless. That must be one hell of a drug. I can only move my eyes at the moment but can feel people moving me. It's slick and clinical, but the disturbing part is seeing the medical masks on my colleague's faces, soaked in blue fluid that seems to keep them unconscious but breathing. Isn't technology marvelous?
We were in a museum, attempting to steal a necklace worth millions, possibly worth more when in many pieces than when whole. As the safecracker, I have always been an important part of all robberies committed by the team lead by Karina Nilsson. One by one, members of our team had seemingly vanished, as if taken by the curse of the necklace. Curses aren't real; kidnapping is.
Gosh, these two must be siblings though. If this hunk wasn't my kidnapper, I'd let him f-ck me to his satisfaction and mine, but he's a kidnapper. The two dirty blondes sure know how to truss up a gorgeous ash blonde with sumptuous breasts. Sheesh, do the ropes have to be so tight? Why is it so uncomfortable? Bondage isn't comfortable, but this is exceptionally uncomfortable. I look across the room from myself, and there is Genevieve Badeaux, our security chief.
WHAT. THE. F-CK. ARE. THEY. DOING. TO. US?!?!?! SHHNNNNKKKK!
Something moves on the cold, dark gray concrete slab flooring. It sounds like wooden furniture moving on any smooth surface, and I moved with it. I finally try to move, but my kidnappers are having none of that. The man grabs me to hold me in place, and I finally realize they're working together to zip me to a bizarre piece of what I can only call "homemade bondage furniture." I have never experienced or seen anything of the kind even as a professional thief and safecracker.
I look to my left and see our leader—Chief, if you will—Karina Nilsson, subdued by that creepy blue fluid while another girl, a curly haired brunette with a fine figure, lecherously trusses her up with black bondage straps. Genevieve is still being examined by another male captor. Who was the one who had us kidnapped? How did they know we were going to try to steal that legendary, priceless necklace, that which belonged to Empress Augusta Victoria Schleswig-Holstein? They had been ready for us, and they managed to subdue us without any of the others realizing it.
"C'mon, Carl, truss those tits as freely as you grabbed them when she was out," the dirty blonde snaps at the other one, "Roxanne will be pissed if she returns to find we couldn't do that much."
"All right," Carl replies in blatant submission to an older sister, "I'm just following your lead."
"That's better. Now, let's get these hotties in bondage before they wake up."
"My hottie is the hottest," the curly haired one keeps talking like she has a crush on Karina.
"This one is nice," Carl says and—excuse me?!—grabs my tit so briefly and doesn't even savor the moment, reducing himself to a stereotypical strong, handsome, chronically horny male.
"Gmmm!" I finally groan while trying to move and realize that I'm extremely vulnerable. Worse, why would I wish that I could seduce my freaking kidnapper and copulate with him?! "Gmmm!"
Man, this setup is incredible. I now can focus clearly and study the room, my surroundings, my bondage, and my fellow thieves. What I see is astonishing and dehumanizing. F-ck. Where to begin with this scene? I'm trussed up like a dinner roast—a sexy one, mind you—and am in no position to exactly give you unbiased commentary. Let's start with the masks.
That blue color is eerily similar to the color of the blue seen in the big sapphire that is centered in the Holstein necklace. The necklace was a gift from Kaiser Wilhelm II to his wife to comfort her and affirm their love in the wake of the loss of their nation at the end of World War 1. The curse of the necklace says those who take it will suffer like she suffered. I don't believe in curses, but I do believe in people coordinating brutal attacks around curses to stir up fear and distress in those who are attacked. It's the self-fulfilling prophecy at work, in a way. The masks are frightful with their medical efficiency and how they maintain a living, unconscious being. It's scary seeing my friends and fellow thieves—Karina, Genevieve, and Maddy—unable to move. There were six of us, though, and that means two were turncoats, escaped successfully, or are still being pursued.
The most bizarre part of all are these wooden devices and the rigidly attached metal pipes—those dreadful poles in this story's title. The wooden boards are each about 4 feet long pieces of strong wooden boards—two pieces each 2" thick by 10" wide—placed side-by-side. Whoever designed these was a genius—an evil genius, mind you—if I escape this situation alive, I will definitely be stealing as many of these as possible for my own use. The boards were brought together using a perfect technique, smoothed, and painted, and, most eerily, each is colored to match the captive; the kidnappers definitely have a talented carpenter on their team. Is it you, Carl? Hmmmmm?
Maybe if I shake my boobs right, Carl's eyes will pop out of his skull and convince him to betray his own associates. Now, that's an idea that might have the potential to help us survive!
"AUGGGHHHH! HARL! Ah'll ih our allth ohh!" That's a great way to kickstart a romance, by telling him I'm going to rip his balls off. I might be a dropdead gorgeous, busty woman, but I am seriously lacking tact. Juvenile detention may have taught me right from wrong, but it could not teach me any manners, that's for sure. My speech is still that of a former junkie. Yes, indeed! It goes without saying that my legs are the prettiest roasts of them all. Just look at my juicy thighs!
Back to the f-cked up—pun intended—situation in which I find myself. The prettiest roast of all is dressed like a perfect femme fatale. My aqua pumps are low enough to still be practical yet high enough to make my calves have that little bit of sumptuous bulge. Black pantyhose lets me show it all off, especially since I am wearing a tight, aqua minidress with a strap top, ample cleavage, and no excess fabric, the only one of my fabulous team wearing a dress for certain.
"She's a feisty one!" the sister says with dark satisfaction, "I'll take care of Miss Genevieve now."
"Hmmmmm," I hear Karina stirring a little because she's now bound—we'll get to that.
"Oh, you're so pretty," the curly-haired brunette says to my team leader, "I'd love to love you."
"Huh?" Karina is dazed, just like I was, conscious but unaware, "Whah ahe hou hooinh?"
"I'm just tying you up, baby, so you can't escape," the brunette says and squeezes Karina's boobs.
"Lucille, you're ready for a private hotel room already, and you just met," the dirty blonde quips.
These "pole-boards," as I will beknight (or belady, can't assume their gender, tsk tsk) them, are a monstrosity. The artist needs a private boutique shop and a top tier psychiatrist. My pole-board is painted a perfect aquamarine, but interestingly all of the bolts and such are raw while the pipes are painted and the boards are perfectly sanded and painted. My setup is a bit different from my fellow thieves', but each one features a steel threaded flange to connect the pipe to the boards. A series of finally treated and polished screws and other conditioning ensures longevity. The pipes are capped at the top and short enough that they don't necessarily stop head movement. Mine is the only one, though, that has a T connector at the top so that the pipes can go out to the sides for a brutal, almost cross-like positioning. Is this sinister enough? Well, it's more sinister than this.
Along the board and each of the pipes are wide, perfectly spaced 2 inch notches that appear to be harmless looking, sanded smooth. The notches are about all 3 inches deep along the sides of the board and maybe half an inch deep along the poles—most of the pipe looks to be 2 inch pipe, but I'd swear mine is 4 inch pipe with deeper notches. What purpose do the notches serve? My legs are bound with pink zipties—a purposeful, lovely contrast—with at least a dozen of them going from my hips down to my ankles. Longer zipties then wrap around my legs and into each of the notches. This process was done to crush my body into each notch along the pipe that comes up from the board and my arms into each notch along the sidearm pipes.
Each of these pole boards has a series of pieces of 2 inch square board on the bottom—I'd guess five of them equally spaced—that balance the board to keep it from tipping and give it slight elevation to keep the bolts—the ones that hold the flange in place—and the bonds from scraping on the ground. I think these "feet" might have rubber to keep them from sliding, too, hence why the room was filled with that SHHNNNNKKKK! sound at the start of my story.
Here's the part that makes someone the worst—probably this Roxanne woman—in every way the angry gods that bedevil these people could possibly be the worst. I have a panel gag stuffing my mouth, and it's not just any panel gag. It's one that has a nasty d-ck shaped mouth filler. Oh, can you believe the f-cking nerve of these people?! I love that as much as any other girl, but believe me it is only good when it is on your own terms. That's one hell of a time; this is a time of hell.
"Oh, Star!" Lucille squeals and blows the dirty blonde girl a kiss, "You're so evil that I love it!"
"Thank you," Star smugly grins, and the second man begins lecherously handling Maddy.
"Mmmm," I flutter my eyes at Carl, but he's watching Star at work and mindlessly fondling me.
"Sis, you're a mistress of evil," Carl says in a way that could make me swoon outside this place.
"That's cause I'm a hottie, and Lucille's a hottie, and we've kidnapped four hotties and counting," Star responds to her brother's words, "Look at us. Hottie, hottie, hottie, hottie, hottie, hottie."
Well, only one of us is eating a d-ck for dessert today. Poor Karina is stirring when Lucille uses a neon green bandana to blindfold the only woman to whom I answer. The blindfold is followed by a head harness ball gag of which Lucille cruelly tightens the straps before using two padlocks to hold it in place, ensuring Karina's silence. Karina is dressed in white and black, her bondage is black, and she is affixed to a black pole-board. Seriously, someone got an 'A' in art in school while also being sent to the school counselor for mandatory sessions three times per week. This is a serious situa—Excuse me, Carl! Now's not the time to expose my f-cking tits, you beast! Gosh, what do I have to do to this guy to stop being mindless and actually pay attention to me. Anyway. Where the f-ck was I? Oh, yeah. We're royally f-cked, and it's not because of Karina.
My boss is wearing such a cute outfit, too. She has black combat boots—a common choice here in our circle of thieves—with white latex pants, but her black crew socks are over the pants for a cute and very showy twist because she has perfect muscle mass everywhere. When Karina poses or flexes, then you see the muscle—feminine but ridiculously strong for beauty that only I'm able to exceed in our group. She has a long sleeve black button-up pocket shirt with lovely lacework at the bottom of the sleeves and shirt itself. A white bandana headband holds her hair back under the layers of bondage. Oh, she is such a doll when we're out and about together and a real friend.
That black bondage is savage, especially the way Lucille is now just selfishly giving herself free reign to fondle Karina's tits. Those pole-board notches are used well, with four black straps each being used to bind Karina's arms together being her back—and wrapped around the f-cking pole in a cruel use of the devices— her thighs together, and her lower legs together. That's twelve all binding her limbs, never mind the several bondage straps used to fasten her arms and body to the pole—pushing her tits out and only encouraging Lucille's debauchery—and her legs to the board. It's total bondage without any freedom, and Karina can only blindly struggle and drool. CARL!
Genevieve is the one though who has the most alarming bondage of all of us because every piece of her captivity is about rigidity and finality. She's our strongest girl, the one who is able to even take down an out-of-shape male if he's no more than 3 inches taller than her. Her outfit is so cute and red, featuring pretty red pumps, red knee socks, a red tight-fitting knee skirt, a red turtleneck shirt she taped up into a crop top, and a red bandana headband.
Sadly, Genevieve's been rewarded with a red pole-board while her bondage is pure stainless steel of the worst kind imaginable. Stainless steel rigid Irish-8 handcuffs secure her ankles together. Her arms are wrapped around the pole in cruel fashion—just like Karina's—and secured with Irish-8 handcuffs at her wrists and below her elbows. A pair of rigid hinged handcuffs—also stainless steel—is above her elbows. The rest of her bondage is the disturbing part—the parts that affix her arms and body to the pole and her legs to the board. It's all stainless steel hose clamps, and Star is saying all these objectifications while I watch her casually wrapping the clamps around Genevieve's body—making full and perfect use of each and every notch in the poleboard—making sure they're tight, and using bolts and wrenches to secure them for a rigid, genuinely inescapable bondage. A red head harness ball gag is pulled over her head, and the straps are tightened more than is absolutely necessary and padlocked in place.
Karina and Genevieve are pretty in very different ways. Karina has the bulk that becomes strong muscle when flexed, which contrasts her small size—only 5'4" tall—blonde hair, and pretty blue eyes. I say pretty blue, as opposed to Carl and Star's blue-gray eyes. Genevieve is a few inches taller than Karina and taller than me, but she has shoulder length brown hair and expressive kind brown eyes that would never lead you to believe that she's the bruiser on a team of thieves. She's so girly and admirable—even if she and Karina have lesser breasts than I have. CARL! Why?!? I know they're the best breasts around, but I'm starting to hope this Roxanne woman breaks your hand whenever she arrives from whatever dusty snakepit houses the lot of you!
"Hhere aah ah?!" Karina groans into her ball gag and begins struggling against the pole-board. SHHNNNNKKKK! she barely moved the pole-board on the gray concrete.
"-uht the hell?!" Genevieve exclaims when she regains her full consciousness, "Whah ith thith?!"
"Just your worst nightmare realized because we want Empress Augusta's necklace," Star says in a menacing tone while fingering Genevieve's navel and the shiny piercing in it.
"Oh—you see—it's simple," Lucille says playfully, "You help us—or we'll snuff you."
"HUH?!" all three of us conscious women exclaim at once, and Karina adds, "WHHHYYY?!"
"We want that necklace," Star contemptuously explained, "And your lives are totally worthless compared to it. When Roxanne returns, we're getting those rocks by any means necessary."
Lest, I forget, there's the girl jokingly nicknamed "Maddy Big Tits" by our leader. Maddy has a fine pair of 34DD tits—if you like floppy, squishy, and soft. Nice when hidden under a bra and a shirt—not so nice when taken out in the open like Carl took mine out. I am trying to get this oaf to look at me, but he just mindlessly squeezes. If I'm going to die, at least give me a good breast orgasm, you useless d-ckhead! I swear, he must be one of those guys who builds girls up for an incredible romantic evening, making them think it's going to be sweaty sex and a hot shower for dessert only to w-nk himself dry in 2 minutes—Nah, he probably has a ch-de, the buffoon.
Maddy dresses cutely. It's feminine, but it's cutesy and not gorgeous. Plenty of men will find it to be attractive, like the brown-haired guy that's using electrical tape on her. It's just not what is conventionally considered "pretty" even if it can be considered "hot" by some. Poor Maddy has the pink pole-board, and I bet she's regretting wearing short sleeves because her arms were taped together like a sausage from her wrists up to her shoulders. Then the sick motherf-cker wrapped her arms back down from her shoulders to her wrists, making sure to tightly wrap inside each of the pole's notches. Now he's currently wrapping her torso up with pinions at her waist and either side of her tits. As a man, he's hormonally obligated to be sure the option of exposure exists for whenever he inevitably chooses to do so—because he's a straight guy and certainly will do it.
Form-fitting pink jeans? Check! Black combat boots? For what kind of military fantasy is that? Form-fitting black leather miniskirt? Check. Pink sports bra? For guys who like edge queens, I guess it's passable. Pink kerchief bandana holding back the most uncontrollable brown curls that you ever saw in your life? Kind of childish or edge queen. Sorry, Mads, your outfit gets a C+ at best, and a D at worst. Look at us three? Karina and I get an A-, and Genevieve gets an A+.
What a swell place for a sextuple snuffing (assuming the goons find our two friends). Really? A snuffing? Couldn't they be more original than that? Gosh, Carl, that was a good squeeze. Come on, big boy, look at me. Look at my pretty blue eyes batting so innocently. Look, Carl, honey, I will suck your d-ck if it means I get to stop sucking this rubber d-ck and escape this alive. Oh—I have a great idea, Carl—how about that b-tch Roxanne walks in here and tases you, useless piece of sh-t. Two dudes in this room, both extremely horny, and the one is thinking about every single one's p-ssy except the one that's actually willing to let him f-ck her senseless. C—A—R—L! If you truly love me, you will do us all a favor and shoot yourself, you useless, worthless goon!
"Ah, what a lovely bunch of hotties," Star reiterates that word so much that I can't stand it.
"Ho h-ck -ourthelf!" I say despite having a rubber c-ck attached to my panel gag—the only c-ck I seem to be able to get right now, "Hohe on, Harl! Hon'h -ou thinh Ah'm thekthy?!"
Maddy's thighs and legs are separately encased in the neon green tape, and then her legs are also wrapped into the notches of the board. The big girl of French ancestry and Geneveive—the big girl from France itself—are supposed to be our powerhouses. They're powerless. Hey, hotties, I am the only one with a T for her bondage instead of a solitary vertical pole, and these zipties are a royal pain that I cannot put into words. Hot? Yes. Objectifying? Oh, yeah. Cozy? Hell, no! I can at least pride myself on being the hottest girl in the room right now.
"Carl, someone's in love with you, you big dufus," Lucille—the freaking lesbian—points it out.
"Mmm hmm," I keep batting my eyes again, now that I finally have his attention—finally!
"You are a pretty girl, aren't you?" and the useless goon finally seems to be awakening when—
"PUT ME DOWN YOU HUMAN PIECE OF SH-T!" Penny, our missing colleague, screeches.
"Oh, we're going to have so much fun, aren't we now?" I hear a chilling, dominatrix coming.
"This girl. Damn, I love the way she's fighting me," Penny's kidnapper, a man, laughs at her.
"There's no need to do this! We didn't bother you. This is illegal!" Missy is blonde at a distance.
"The only law that exists right now is Roxanne Rutledge's Code of Human Domination," crows the monstrous woman herself, "And I will get what I want: whether the necklace or your death!"
"Not if we get what we want first!" Penny snaps right back, full of fight and life still.
"Within an hour, you'll want me to kill you," Roxanne says, "Oh, trust me, you definitely will."
How does Roxanne know us so well? She has a white pole-board for Missy and a yellow one for Penny. Penny—ever the practical thief who is our slippery and sneaky girl—is wearing a yellow bandana headband, yellow gym shorts, and yellow sneakers. Fittingly, she has a black sports bra and black crew socks. She is loudly and brightly dressed, like her personality. She refuses to be cooperative—a true inspiration. Her male captor has a brain like Maddy's—unlike Carl. She has an inherent need to fight like hell, the diminutive blonde-haired girl shoots fire out her big brown eyes and whips her nemesis with her braid like it's a freaking cat-o-nine-tails.
Lucille is engaging in full-blown lesbianism with Karina, sitting on her lap, kissing her cheeks as if they're already in a relationship, and fondling her breasts. Star is almost as deviant with locked and steel-pinioned Genevieve, except Star is acting like it's a negative thing and is romanticizing a girl she knows is marked for death. Genevieve struggles, but the steel is understandably strong and unbreakable. Lucille is even unbuttoning Karina's shirt now. Me? I have stupid Carl.
"Rob, if you wish to use the cinch straps on Penny. You might need to convert her setup into the cruciform version," Roxanne makes an observation that shows how astute she is, "And John, you are really giving Maddy the time of her life. Make sure she's happy in case she passes away."
"You really are serving a dish that's cold," Carl is killing my libido via his lack of intelligence.
"I have good news for you ladies," she effortlessly dominates Missy using orange paracord, "It's a simple process. You tell me how to get to the necklace, and you go home alive without further trouble once I have it in my possessions. Or you die one at a time," she is cooing, "Isn't it easy?"
"Ah ah noh hellin- -ou how hoo -eh the -ecklith!" Karina says blindly and defiantly.
"Maybe you won't, but maybe your associates will," there's a gleam in her eye.
"Like we're going to surrender to you!" Penny snaps at Roxanne, "F-ck off, Robby!"
"No, Carl needs to f-ck off. If he doesn't stop being stupid, I'll kill him first," Roxanne sneers.
Missy is like the Goddess of Moonlight—Diana beautifully personified. Navy canvas sneakers, a navy bandana holds her wavy blonde locks back in a kerchief, a white turtleneck t-shirt that is taped up to expose her midriff and a shiny navel piercing, a navy-and-white plaid knee skirt, and navy-and-white horizontally striped thigh-high socks. She gets a B+ in Nichole's fashion guide
Penny avoids the cinch straps, instead having her arms wrapped around the pole for white rope to torque her arms together at her wrists and either side of her elbows. The same is done to Missy's arms but with orange paracord. The notches in the pipes are used well, and harnesses and double duty waist-and-crotch ropes take advantage of the notches in the pipe and the boards. Their legs are tied six times each, and then they're tied to the notches on top of this. It's savage and cruel. I see a panicked look in our friend's faces when they see how the rest of us are already bound and gagged. It was time for escalation: blue ball gags for Penny and Missy are mere stopgaps.
Even Roxanne's outfit is unsettling. It's red. Red camouflage pants. A red camouflage bandana headband. A black sports bra. Red bandana wristbands. Black combat boots. She looks like the type of sadistic woman who would shamelessly kill others; worse, I think she'll do it painfully as well. This isn't the sedative type; this is the strangulation and waterboarding type. I feel shivers going down my spine, especially when she barks out commands. Her next command is a simple one that even Carl can follow—all six girls should have her breasts exposed, have a vibrator to force her to experience unwanted pleasure, and have her feet stripped bare with her big toes tied together. I don't have socks, but that still means the theft of my pumps, continued unbuttoning of Karina's shirt, rolling up of bras and cropped tops. It's a soulless power move, and I'm fighting.
"Get the hoods and collars ready! I want to see all the keys to these bondages strap in a pile next to the socks," Roxanne orders her lackeys, "Lucille and Star, add your socks to the mix as well! I want you to add all the keys to the hoods and collars. We will teach these foolish girls a lesson!"
To be fair, Lucille deserves an A for her outfit, even if she is a lecherous and almost primal being with her passionate affections towards Karina. The burgundy bandana headband and matching knee socks give her a youthful yet energetic aura. The dark brown, form fitting skirt would have been a knee skirt on any other girl in the room, but she's the tallest girl here, resulting in what we will dub a three-quarter-thigh skirt. The tan button-up three-quarter sleeve blouse has burgundy pinstripes, but she has menace in the form of her dark brown combat boots. She plays the blend of criminal kidnapper, innocent young woman, and lecherous animal to absolute perfection.
Karina blindly struggles and drools from the ball gag, truly a pathetic sight in this bare basement in some demented monster's home. Concrete floors, concrete block walls, and exposed pipes and wires above due to the lack of a ceiling make this truly the creepiest place I've ever seen. There's little we can do except SHHNNNNKKKK! the pole-boards as best as we are able. I am not able because of my cruciform position disturbing the pole-board's balance enough that I tip when I try to struggle. Genevieve fights like hell, but those steel hose clamps have no stretch, holding her down without any mercy thanks to how Star tightened the bolts. Those rigid cuffs also show no mercy or forgiveness. The straps on her harness gag look painful enough that I wince.
SHHNNNNKKKK! some pole-boards scrape their rubber-padded feet along the concrete. I hear some wails, especially from Maddy and Missy. I think if I had to rank my sympathy for my colleagues, Karina would be first as the leader because she's suffering with us, but then it's a drag race for second with Genevieve for her bondage, Missy for her emotional suffering, and Maddy for her total objectification because you knew that John fellow was going to expose those 34DD tits the moment I mentioned that men have this magnetic attraction to them. She doesn't deserve this in the least, but at least she's being mindfully fondled—unlike me! CARL! Why is it always the handsome one who is the rank stupidest of them all?!
Blind obedience is frightening. When you behave as lecherously as Star and Lucille have, this is even more frightening because it means "Oh, yeah, Roxanne has a plan to make things worse for these dumb broards!" They're not blindly obeying; they're trusting a sadistic plan. Roxanne sits on the floor playing with the socks and the keys, looking like a child playing with blocks with an emotionally disturbing smirk on her face. This woman is evil to the core and really will do damn near anything to get what she wants. I know what I want and can't get it. Sure! Roxanne says to strip our feet and tie our toes, and Carl can jump up and ziptie my big toes together, but can he be bothered to give my big, beautiful breasts a more meaningful fondling and let a girl have her life in exchange for the best hanky-panky he ever experienced in his life? Nooooooooooo!
Roxanne starts stuffing some of the crew and ankle socks into the longer knee and thigh socks in the pile, and now I realize that the plan is for us to be gagged with these. My fears are confirmed as Roxanne is tying bandanas around each of the longer socks, just below the cuff. She wants to create disgusting, subhuman, dehumanizing gags, but she doesn't want us to choke on them. The wicked dominatrix is becoming almost predictable in my eyes. She really will kill us if she feels it is necessary, but I will have to play my cards to see how she responds to strength. Genevieve, Penny, and I will likely stay strong; Missy and Maddy will easily crumble; Karina's the variable.
Star is the one going around setting up the vibrators that Roxanne requested. Some of them are battery-powered, and others are plug-and-play. I have to turn this situation to my favor, but that requires I get this big buffoon—that's an idea. I have to orgasm, but how do I do that? Hmmm. Yes, that's it, Nichole. I'm in bed with Carl, on my back in the bed. We're under the sheets since I find that naughtier. Yes, Carl and I are kissing each other. Close your eyes, Nichole. Do not move an inch. Start fighting the zipties like you're angry enough to kill. Remember that you're the girl with the rubber d-ck in your mouth. That's it. Oh, yes, here we go. "GMMMMMMM!" I groan at my fantasy, forcing myself to climax before the vibrator is even turned on. When my eyes open, I'm looking right at Carl, and I bat my eyelashes. He blushes. F-CK. YES.
"All right. Here's the deal. Carl, keep your c-ck in your shorts unless I say otherwise," Roxanne is just as keen as I am, apparently, because she's stymieing my efforts, "Each one of these hotties, to use Star's favorite word, will be gagged with one of these socks. You will then wrap her face up in any color of electrical tape that pleases you, hood her, and collar her. Any questions?"
"GMMMMMMM!" I pipe up, desperate to have this rubber c-ck taken out of my mouth.
"You may speak, Miss Shockman, but you will receive your new gag first," Roxanne is so slimy.
"Blegh! Oh, Carl, I'd so rather have you in my mouth. Would you at least," I look into his dumb eyes and wink an eye at him, "turn on the vibrator, sit on my lap, and kiss me after you've gagged me, handsome? A girl deserves to have a good time before she potentially dies, after all. I'd like it more if Miss Rutledge would let me enjoy a little time free in the… bedroom… with you."
"Aw, come on, Roxanne," Carl's now thinking with his d-ck instead of his brain, "May I?"
"Yes, come on, Roxanne," I then make a potent double entendre, "Let him c-m in my mouth."
"You manipulative little b-tch," Roxanne fearlessly takes control and grabs one Lucille's socks and jams the wad in my mouth with whatever other socks are stuffed inside, "You'll pay for your attempts to seduce your way out of my grasp," and she knots the yellow bandana cleave gag that holds the socks in my mouth, "Never attempt to double-cross me, understood," and then she uses 2-inch wide electric purple electrical tape and wraps my face with it 8 times. The hood is pulled over my head and laced with unnecessary tightness. Roxanne is calmly—frighteningly calmly at that—pulling it tight and knotting it. The black leather is suffocating except for the slot that still keeps my nose and eyes exposed. She puts a black posture collar around my neck and padlocks it in place. Well, so much for getting Carl in my mouth. I'll have to get him to copulate instead.
I sent each man's brain to his shorts. Suddenly, John was looking at Maddy with a different eye, and I could see a similar thought in Rob's eye while he stared at Penny. It was obvious that all of them—male and female—would obey the orders to apply the dirty sock gags, hoods, and collars, but the men were now thinking with their d-cks—and wondering if Roxanne was perhaps a little too violent with her methods. "Does anyone have a real question?" Roxanne asks more coldly.
"Mmm hmm!" Genevieve takes the next opportunity to be silenced, and Star removes the gag.
"You are permitted to speak to me about your bondage and that which we desire: the necklace."
"First, these steel straps are horrible. I cannot move," Genevieve says with a thick French accent that I'm sure is making the men swoon a little, "Two, the only way that you will see that necklace is if I'm the one standing free and you are the one bound with rigid cuffs and steel hose clamps. I am finished, and you may do whatever you like to me because I will not surrender to a coward."
"Star, take care of this piece of refuse. She just signed her own death warrant," Roxanne coos in a chilling manner that shows she still holds at least some sway in this space, "Anybody else?"
"GUH!" Penny outright spits out her ball gag, "Robert, since that's your name," the smallest of us all has picked up on my tactics as well, "I kind of like the way you carried me in here. I'd love it if you'd make things a little more personal after I'm gagged. Just because these f-cking ropes are a pathetic b-tch like your boss doesn't mean that we can't make it sexy. I might even help you all if I get a really good orgasm out of this. So, what do you say, big boy? Hmm? I'd love to get to know you in better circum—GMMMMMM!" she has one of Genevieve's socks jammed into her mouth by Roxanne followed by red electrical tape, a hood, and a collar, "GMMMMMMMMM!"
Star has not missed her opportunity to gag Genevieve; Lucille never even gives Karina a chance; Rob merely complies with the orders. Genevieve has one of Missy's socks in her mouth; Karina gets one of horny Lucille's, of course; Penny gets Missy's other sock; Genevieve gets bright blue tape; Karina gets hot pink; Penny gets black. Karina and Genevieve receive hoods that also have padlocks; Penny's has regular laces. All receive padlocking collars. This is unsurprising, as both Lucille and Rob turn on the vibrators and resume enjoying their respective captive's tits however they like. Genevieve and I likewise have the vibrators initiated, and Roxanne apparently studied us so well that all of us have the wands instantly set to our personally most resonant frequency.
I now have to depend upon the men since I have neither my voice nor control of my climax, and there are seeds that need to grow some more before Roxanne kills them—or Genevieve. Come on, Carl, honey! I wince a little when Star puts binder clips on Genevieve's nipples; Star is fully in Roxie's camp still, but can she be swayed by Genevieve or for the sake of her goonish, foolish brother? Lucille is a wild card because I still haven't find her line between romance and lust.
One by one, Maddy and Missy are silenced with the socks, the tape, the hoods, and the collars. It is a devastating silence. The socks, as you can imagine, are not anything you will find served at a greasy diner let alone a four-star restaurant. I absolutely hate the texture and the taste, but then I feel something with my tongue—keys. That's what that f-cking animal was doing! She wasn't playing with socks and keys like fetish toys! She was preparing us so that we'd have the keys to our freedom locked in our mouths to torture us so that we'd be unable to swallow them, and those extra layers of socks weren't just filler—they were so that the keys would be buried further so we would take longer to find them. One by one, we find them and howl into our gags, but Roxanne only lets out a disturbing cackle: "Ahhh ha ha haaa! You figured it out, I see, my dears!"
The pinch of these zipties is becoming unbearable. I've been here for, what, 90 minutes? And I have only secured the partial attention of Carl. My only weapon is my orgasm, and I must tell my fellow captives to use this weapon against the seducers and seductresses. Make it an erotic dance, if you will. I already know that Missy cannot be part of this because captivity once was violently used against her by both men and women. Somehow, she looks more innocent without her boots and thigh-high socks, and part of me aches that she's trapped with the rest of us.
"NNNNNNNN!" is the most any of us can say, our voices completely robbed by the gags.
I feel an impending burn, and I pretend to enjoy that climax so much that even Roxanne seems to be taken off guard by my reaction. If I can play up the horny masochist angle enough, hopefully I will inspire my friends to adopt different angles that will have our respective assailants starting to undress us in their minds. It's the only chance we have to survive because Roxanne is ready to apply strips of tape over either Karina's or Genevieve's nose to suffocate one of them as a vicious demonstration of her determination to have Empress Augusta's priceless necklace.
"You will both be an example for the others as the team leaders," Roxanne decides, and she gives the tape to Star, "Make it removable in case they choose to surrender to our desires."
"Oh, this will be a pleasure," Star says in a heartless, soulless manner, sealing Genevieve's nose.
"GNNNNNNN!" that instantly forces her to climax due to the breathlessness.
"And as for you, Miss Nilsson," the sadist coos, "It's time," and she seals Karina's nose as well.
"GNNNNNNN HNN HNN HNNNNNN!" Karina starts crying and awakens a sleeping beast.
"No," Lucille coldly responds, "I won't allow you to do this to them. I won't."
"MMMMMMMMM!" Karina struggles as much as the pole-board allows her, "HMMMMM!"
"What do you mean?" Roxanne asks with a calm hiss, "You question your leader's command?"
"Yes—YES!—I question my leader's command," the curly haired brunette removes the tape from both Genevieve's and Karina's noses, "In fact, I think the ones that need a decent smothering here are you and Star Blue, maybe just you," she asserts her full height and looks down at Roxanne.
Maddy and Penny, almost on cue, look at John and Rob and react in their own ways. Maddy is a natural at erotically writhing, and she puts a lump in John's shorts that I can see from where I am. Penny is much more physical and lets out a howl, fights the white ropes, and innocently bats her eyes. Even Missy is giving the innocent puppy eyes to Lucille and Rob, earning their sympathy. The revolution is underway, and Roxanne is losing her formerly powerful grip on her team.
"C'mon, guys," Lucille holds her hands up, "Help these ladies. It's time for Roxanne to meet the revenge she has so viciously dished out to others. I'll take care of her. Get our new friends out of here," and Lucille then effortlessly snatches Roxanne, spins her around, and hand gags her, "I am sorry—no, I'm not—Roxanne. These aren't the first girls you captured and tortured, but they won't be the first ones you kill, either—it's over, you ruthless maniac. OVER!!" With that, I see a spark form in Lucille's eyes, and John starts things by kissing Maddy on her gagged lips. I turn my head to see Rob untying Penny. I've won the battle for our survival.
"Unhand me, you hypersexualized oaf!" Roxanne shrieks at Lucille, "I'm your boss. ME!"
"No more. Tonight, you became our enemy, Roxanne Rutledge," Lucille asserts her strength.
"NO! NO!" the villainess's eyes grow wide when green paracord ties her elbows together.
"You pushed us too damn far," Rob says without a thought, "It's over, you twisted little freak."
"Unhand me, Lucille, before things become ugly for you," the murderess demands her release.
"No can do. Instead," Lucille effortlessly removes Roxanne's boots and socks, "I think I might just tie you to one of these contraptions instead. Then I'll leave, call the cops from a pay phone, and tell them that they'll find you and your contraband everywhere. You have all the goods, and they'll be unable to pin any of us for any crime we've committed alongside you." She jams those foul socks into the vile dominatrix's mouth without remorse, and I laugh into my gag at the face she makes when the taste of her own de-feet hits her tongue.
Carl—finally cognizant and broken of the spell—sits down on my lap and kisses me on the lips, a part of him enjoying that I'm bound and gagged and at his mercy and part of him aware that he doesn't just get a free pass to do anything he wants to me. Everyone's aware of the lock situation, and he takes out a pocket knife and begins cutting me free, to the objections of his older sister.
Lucille wraps Roxanne's face in several layers of yellow electrical tape, sealing the socks inside her mouth for good. With Penny freed, Lucille pulls Roxanne's arms over the pole and begins to use green paracord to secure Roxanne to Penny's pole-board the same way that Penny and Missy had been tied to the devices. The notches in the pole and the board are used to perfection, and it becomes clear that Roxanne is going nowhere soon. A harness, a waist-and-crotch rope, and the paracords along the leg are then reinforced with the notches. Once my arms are free, I know that I must prioritize Penny's hood and collar with my lock-picking skills and use them on Roxanne.
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Star shrieks above the din, but I ignore her while assisting Penny even though my arms are aching from the prolonged bondage, "NO! We have a cause, a mission!"
"Shut the f-ck up, Star," Carl snaps at his sister, "Or you'll be the next one on this pipe cross!"
"But…," Star looks around the room with abject horror, realizing what is happening, "But… the necklace—Empress Augusta's… necklace… don't we… want it… still? We do, don't… we?"
"Yes, but we have new allies with whom to share the spoils," John, helping Maddy, explains.
"So, shut the f-ck up, sis. We're better—much better—than this mess," Carl seems dreamy now.
My skills go to work, picking the locks on Penny's collar and hood, and she then unwraps layer after layer of electrical tape, unknots the cleave gag, and pulls the socks out of her mouth. While she's doing that, I'm holding and collaring Roxanne and padlocking the devices into place. It's an appropriate turning of the worm—Roxanne is such a worm. And what's my next concern? That I have exposed tits and getting my clothing back into place.
I have a lot of locks to pick unless a pattern can be found to figure what keys do what. Only the keys to the Irish-8 handcuffs will be obvious to the naked eye just because of their shape. Penny takes out a socket wrench to start helping Genevieve by removing the stainless steel hose clamps that once rigidly secured her. Kari and Gen will need all the help they can get. Carl, honeybun, be useful and free Missy. Thanks baby! What am I saying?! Did 10 minutes of vibration really drive me that far already?!
I pick the locks faster than 95% of the keys can be identified. Surprise, surprise, what a mess of locks and keys are on the floor, but we can all stand, talk, hug, and put our tits back in our shirts at long last. Our socks are sopping wet messes, but we'll live until we get home and get to clean ourselves up. But this woman? This b-tch? This thing called Roxanne Rutledge? We leave her in the basement and turn off the light, leaving her to contemplate her karma or something while I lead a team of rebels into the pack of thieves led by Karina Nilsson. Once the basement door has been shut, I feel free to stand up on my own and give Carl a kiss on the cheek.
"You're a most lovable dufus," I say to him, and everyone—even Carl—laughs in agreement.
THE END
The Poles
Duration of Film: Approximately 114 minutes
Saturday, September 19, 2020
| Featuring | Model Name | As |
|---|---|---|
| Hannah Larsson | Karina Nilsson | Thief #1 |
| Ashley Calland | Genevieve Badeaux | Thief #2 |
| Mackenzie Schaefer | Nichole Shockman | Thief #3 |
| Mary-Ann Jamison | Maddy Vee | Thief #4 |
| Jackie Martin | Missy Mischief | Thief #5 |
| Kendra Gentry | Penny Nichols | Thief #6 |
| Felice Pryce | Roxanne Rutledge | Captor #1 |
| Kylie Svensson | Star Blue | Captor #2 |
| Michela Palmeri | Lucille Rossi | Captor #3 |
| Robby Svensson | Carl Blue | Captor #4 |
| Ross Gentry | Rob Nichols | Captor #5 |
| Nate Jamison | John Vee | Captor #6 |
| Destiny Reilly | Destiny Child | Safety |
| Nichole Petersen | Paulina Oliveira | Camera |
| Taylor Zawislak | Julia Pulaski | Camera |
"Thanks, and you're quite lovable, too," Robby says to me, looking into my eyes.
"Oh, I wish you'd really tie me to one of those pole-boards and stuff your c-ck in my mouth."
"Very funny, but, Mackenzie, there's much more," and he gets down on one knee, "I'm serious, dead serious. I love you, Mackenzie, and it seemed unreal back when we first met. You were still in high school, and you promised me a date only after you turned 18 since I was, what, 20 at the time? Since then, you've grown to mean more to me than I can put in words. Miss Schaefer, will you marry me?" and opens a box to show me a ring with two diamonds and a sapphire.
"Mr. Svensson, of course I'll say yes. I'm just," I laugh a little, "surprised you picked tonight."
"A film about thieves squabbling over diamonds and sapphires? It was perfect," he retorts.
"I will marry you, Robby Svensson, because I love you too. Now, let's go downstairs, release poor Felice if the rest of the crew hasn't already, and take a pole-board somewhere more private."
Never before did I enjoy a bl-wjob so much. It was really special letting myself be ziptied on the cruiciform pole-board a second time while doing that—being alone with the man I love.
HAPPILY EVER AFTER
