I was woken by a loud knocking on the door and realised that I had spent the night on the sofa, under the duvet. However, when I opened my bleary eyes, I saw that it was still dark outside, and a quick glance at the clock told me that it was 3.30 AM. What the fuck, I thought, why is somebody banging on my door at this hour?!

I should have guessed, but a look through the porthole confirmed that it was Dafne, with the taillights of Stefan's car glowing behind her.

"Whuh?" I said groggily as I opened the door and immediately realised that early hours of a chilly morning and naked don't go together well, "what do you want?! It's the middle of the night!"

"Yes! And there's not a moment to lose!" she exclaimed brightly, "time for another adventure, and we have to beat the dawn!" I had no idea what she was talking about, but knew that I was going to have to go with her.

"Okay, whatever," I grumbled, "let me get some clothes on."

"No time!" Dafne responded, grabbing my arm and dragging me out into the night, "anyway, you're dressed perfectly for what we're going to be doing anyway." As she closed the door and pulled me towards the car, the only thing on my mind was getting somewhere warm which, at that precise moment, seemed to be the vehicle in front of me with its engine ticking over. I jumped in and was glad to find it toasty warm.

"Here, drink this," Stefan said, turning in his seat and offering me a mug of steaming coffee, "it'll wake you up." I took it gratefully and sipped at the scalding liquid.

"Where are we going?" I asked as Dafne climbed in alongside me and Stefan drove off.

"Like I said, it's a new adventure for Devon Bondage Girl!" she replied. "This is going to be slightly different, as we are going to play out a little scene for the camera. Consider it your acting debut!" I definitely didn't like the sound of that but, as was happening more and more frequently in my life, I had no choice but to go with the flow. We drove on in silence for about half an hour before turning down a dirt track and finally pulling to a halt.

"Here's your costume," Dafne said, handing me my latex hood. I put it on and she forced me to get out into the cold morning air. Stefan was standing at the back of the car wearing what looked like a bed sheet and a pillow case over his head, peering out through two holes. The hood/pillow case ended in a point above his head, making him look like a member of the Ku Klux Klan!

"Okay," Dafne said as she tied my wrists together in front of me, "in our little film, you play the part of a poor, helpless maiden who is to be sacrificed by Stefan, the chief druid. Don't worry," she added when she saw my frightened expression, "there's no real sacrifice, we're not monsters! That's why it's called acting, darling."

"Is there dialogue I have to learn?" I asked resignedly.

"No, no, all you have to do is scream and act frightened," she said, while stuffing a bright red ballgag between my teeth and buckling it in place. Well, I thought, that removes the need for lines! "You should struggle to escape, but not so much that you actually do escape, that wouldn't fit the script." Having given me her directorial instructions, she stepped away and turned on the floodlight attached to her video camera, illuminating the pre-dawn gloom.

"And… ACTION!" she called out. Stefan grabbed the rope and pulled me close to him.

"Come, wench," he declaimed loudly, "it is time for you to meet your preordained fate. To the sacrificial altar!" With another severe tug on the rope around my wrists, he pulled me forwards and, frightened by his threatening tone, I stumbled, falling flat out on the dew-soaked grass.

Without looking back, he continued to yank the rope, dragging me along on the wet ground until I could get back to my feet and stagger after him. Whatever Dafne had said about this being make-believe flew out of my head, driven away by my conviction that Stefan was intent on doing me some harm, and I tried to dig my heels in to stop my progress towards whatever he was leading me to. But it made no difference, my feet just slid on the slippery surface and, when I did get any purchase, he just gave another violent pull on the rope, making me stumble onwards.

The sky was quickly lightening and I saw, silhouetted in front of me, large standing stones in a rough circle, a little like Stonehenge but not as large and impressive. In the middle of the circle, I saw a slab of stone lying on the ground and surmised that this was the sacrificial altar. Now completely freaked out, I started to scream into the gag and renew my attempts to get away, but to no avail. Stefan dragged me inexorably into the centre of the circle and towards the slab.

He clasped my arms and forced me down onto my back on the cold stone table and, ignoring my continued struggling, tied the end of the rope to something I couldn't see, pinning me down. He produced more ropes and tied my ankles so that my legs were held wide apart, again tying them off to convenient but hidden anchor points.

"Great God of Light!" Stefan intoned, facing the light sky in the east, "we offer this maiden to you as sacrifice in return for your blessing of our crops for the year to come!" He then pulled the sheet he was wearing off, revealing that his rather magnificent body was entirely naked. My eyes immediately went to his groin, where I could see that he was fully ready for action.

He knelt on the stone slab between my legs and, grabbing my thighs in his powerful hands, lifted me up until the ropes on my wrists and ankles were pulled tight. With a single, smooth action, he slid the full length of his impressive erection into me, impaling me in the most delightful way.

I let out a scream of surprise and some initial discomfort when he did this, but I was soon grunting and moaning in response to his regular and rapid thrusting as my arousal began to build. The threatening sight of the pointed white hood above his powerful bare chest gave me a frisson of fear that, along with the feeling of the ropes biting into me, pulling at my limbs, just intensified the physical sensations I was experiencing even further.

My orgasm was inevitable, and arrived quickly and with plenty of noise. After quite a lot of screaming and thrashing about in my bondage, I was a little distressed to find that Stefan just carried on regardless, as if nothing had happened, and what had been so pleasurable only moments before became rather uncomfortable and a bit sore. But, as he continued to pump me, the pleasure gradually built again.

I was just about ready to reach another intense climax when Stefan suddenly pulled out and dropped me back onto the cold rock to which I was tied. As I looked up to find out what had happened, I saw him kneeling over me, one arm raised with hand clenched in a fist, the other very firmly grasping his glistening member.

"Come, O mighty Sun God!" he shouted and, at the precise moment that the first rays of sunlight hit the stone table, his pulsing cock erupted, spraying great quantities of hot, sticky cum across my stomach and breasts. Wow, I thought, say what you like about this guy, he's got amazing self-control and perfect timing!

"CUT!" Dafne cried, skipping over to us, "Darling, you were marvelous! Come here, big boy!" She pulled off the white hood and, locking her lips against his, dragged him off the slab and down onto the ground, out of my sight. I had to listen to them making mad, passionate love for the next fifteen minutes while I watched the sun come up across the open landscape around us.

Eventually, Stefan went back to the car to get dressed and Dafne released me from the ropes, handing me the white sheet to clean myself up.

"You did very well as well, Sally, for your first time," she said condescendingly. "I'm starving, let's go get something to eat!" That is how, half an hour later, I found myself sitting in a roadside transport cafe, eating a very unhealthy but delicious fried breakfast, wearing nothing but a cum-stained sheet, stinking of sex. I think the truckers enjoyed ogling me as well.

The next three weeks of my summer break passed in much the same way as those first heady days. There was the odd day when I didn't meet up with my kinky, controlling neighbours - giving me time to do my shopping, and also to rest up and recover- but not many. The rest of the time was spent surviving the challenges of my role as Devon Bondage Girl.

I was taken to many of the picturesque beauty spots around the county, and was videoed or pictured cavorting around in various types of bondage and not much else. It was incredibly stressful to be put into these situations where it felt like I might be discovered at any moment but, afterwards, the thrill of having risked humiliating exposure and survived was sensational.

We went to all manner of locations - ancient hill forts, ruined castles, isolated barns, clifftops, fields, moors, basically anywhere we could dodge the mobs of tourists, a constant problem in such a popular area of the country. Sometimes, we had to wait for people to leave before we could move in and do our thing. Even more stressful, and therefore exciting, were those times when we had to pack up and leave in a hurry to avoid the sudden arrival of curious visitors.

One example of how far Dafne wanted to push things was when she took me out into the country and, having parked up in a lay-by, led me down the road a couple of hundred yards and into the safety of a stand of trees close by. Here, she made me strip and put on my latex hood, before gagging me and strapping me into the armbinder. So far so 'normal', I thought, but things were about to get more interesting.

As I stood there helplessly and watched, she waited for a decent break in the traffic on the nearby road, then dashed out and knelt down before a sign reading "ENTERING DEVON". With a black marker pen, she added "BONDAGE GIRL" beneath, then returned to where I was standing just in time to avoid the next group of cars.

I was wondering what was going on when, in the next quiet spell, she pushed me out of my hiding place and hustled me over to the sign, before making me lie down on the grass below it. I felt her pull my legs up behind me and tie my ankles together, attaching them to the ring at the end of the single glove, leaving me in a pretty strict hogtie. She stepped back and started snapping away, giving me instructions to 'struggle seductively' for her.

I was already nervous, but when I heard the unmistakable sound of approaching traffic, I went into a blind panic and tried to crawl away, even though this was impossible in the hogtie. I began to bleat incoherently around the gag, hoping that either Dafne would take pity on me or, more likely, the ground would open up and swallow me.

Dafne, by complete contrast, was calmness personified, and coolly tossed a blanket she had presciently brought with her, over me. Too shocked to react, I simply lay there, trembling, as the vehicles whizzed by. When the coast was clear, Dafne simply pulled back the blanket and carried on with the photo shoot. This must have happened half a dozen times before she finally untied me and allowed me to run to the safe haven of the small copse.

There were also times when we stayed in the house rather than venturing out. Sometimes I would dress up in my latex uniform and perform the duties of maid, usually in some form of bondage. I always loved the feel of the latex and having to do boring stuff like household chores was made enjoyable by imagining that I had been abducted and enslaved by this cruel, heartless couple, which was not much of a stretch, really!

On other occasions, the whole day might turn into one long sex session, the three of us doing anything and everything to each other, with me usually in bondage, but very much a willing participant. Once I had got over the feeling that I was betraying my friend by having sex with her husband - a process made quite easy by said friend insisting that I do - I found Stefan to be a great lover, so different from anyone else I had been with before. It took me a while to come to terms with the vigour, verging on violence, of his performance but, once I did, I started to think of the sex I had enjoyed before him as staid, safe, almost boring.

He trained me how to give head properly, and how to deep-throat without encountering the terrible gag reflex from which I had always suffered in the past. He also introduced me to anal sex, something I had always thought of as dirty and disgusting - this from someone into bondage and cream pies! - and, I assumed, unpleasantly painful. But then, when you're tied across the dining table with your arse in the air and a heavy duty gag in your mouth, there's not much you can do to stop it happening!

He was, actually, quite gentle with me, using plenty of lubricant, making me relax, and toning down his usual high tempo to something much slower and more tolerable. It did hurt at first, but as my sphincter muscles became more supple, and I relaxed both mentally and physically, it became easier. I'm not sure I would say that I actually enjoy it, but it is now part of the sexual repertoire that I am not afraid of and, if a lover expresses a desire for it, I'm happy to oblige- as long as they tie me up first, of course!

And then there is Dafne. She may be bisexual, but I'm not entirely sure. She certainly enjoys having sex with me, but I think that is more to do with power than actual sexual enjoyment. Her preference is for the strap-on dildo and face-sitting because, as described earlier, she can be in complete control of what is happening.

As for me, I'm ashamed to say that I love it all. They've turned me into a sex fiend, and I can't get enough, whether it's him, her, or both of them together. I put up with being treated as their servant, or even slave, from time to time because I know I will be getting all the sex and bondage I can cope with soon enough - and occasionally a little more than I can cope with.

One particular occasion springs to mind when I felt Dafne went just too far. Let me explain.

"I bought you a new outfit, pet," she told me one morning, "it was very expensive, so I hope you like it."

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed when she pulled the garment in question from her wardrobe and held it for me to look at, "it's beautiful!" It was a full-body catsuit in - what else? - amazing shiny black latex! I immediately started to strip out of my clothes, more excited than a kid at Christmas.

It was a perfect fit, clinging to my body like a second skin, covering me from neck to ankles and down to my wrists. I spent ages admiring myself in the full-length mirror, turning this way and that, running my hands over the smooth, reflective surface, squeezing my breasts and buttocks, around which the rubber flowed like liquid. I looked like I had been dipped in crude oil, like that Bond girl.

"I had it made to measure," Dafne smiled, "you wouldn't believe how many measurements I had to give them, and getting them without making you suspicious was a real challenge! Here, there are accessories."

There were gloves, socks and a matching hood so that, when I had them all on, only my eyes and my mouth could be seen. The hood had a built-in ring gag to hold my mouth open and, when I now looked in the mirror, I saw something that looked like a rubber sex doll, except that it was moving!

"All these pieces join together," she said, fastening the zips between the wrists, ankles and neck of the suit and the extra pieces, "and then they can be locked in place." As she said this, she attached the tiniest silver padlocks to each of the zip fobs, imprisoning me in the outfit. It gave me the most incredible tingling sensation - to be locked away in tight latex, pure heaven!

"'O 'y 'od! 'ank 'oo so 'uch!" I spluttered incoherently but, from the smile on her face, I think she got the message.

"You're welcome," she responded, and ran her own hands over me, tweaking a stiff nipple through the material. As her fingers drifted down between my thighs, I responded by arching my back and letting out a long moan of appreciation and pleasure. "How does it feel in there? Good? Let's make it even better!"

She picked up a panel gag from her dressing table and fitted it across my mouth, making sure it was strapped as tightly as she could manage. It had the familiar rubber phallus on the inside, filling my mouth, and I thought it was the gag I had worn many times before but, when Dafne attached a pump bulb and pipe to the front, I realised this was something new. Just like the dildo she had used on me before, when she pressed the bulb, the rubber attachment in my mouth expanded until it filled all available space and forced my jaws wider and wider apart until I screamed in alarm and discomfort.

"Enough?" she questioned, and I nodded my head vigourously in assent. She detached the pipe and stowed the device away in a drawer, leaving me with my tongue pinned to the floor my mouth and only able to breathe through my nostrils. I realised that what was supposed to have been a scream at the top of my voice had emerged as barely a whimper. I truly was gagged now!

"Okay so far?" she asked and, feeling a squadron of butterflies fluttering in my stomach, I nodded in reply. "Good. Then let's carry on." What she brought out next made me shiver with both fear and anticipation.

It was a gas mask. Heavy black rubber, rubber straps, a stubby black filter where the mouth should be, and two mirrored glass eyepieces. It looked scary and, as Dafne brought it towards my face, I was suitably terrified. With a conscious effort, I resisted the temptation to back away or put up my hands and let her put it on me. It covered my whole face and, once it was strapped in place, my nostrils were filled with the pungent smell of new rubber. The eyepieces made everything seem a little darker out there in the outside world, from which I now seemed very much isolated.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, there was nothing left of me, just this alien creature I no longer recognised. I watched as the hands moved over the body, knowing that they were my hands roaming my body, but the feeling of rubber on rubber was unnatural, dislocating me further from the image in front of me. I touched the mask on my face, finding it so tightly held that it almost melted into the latex of the hood beneath it, forming an airtight seal, certainly one that I couldn't break with the reduced dexterity of the gloves. I was scared by the vision in front of me, and by the diminution of my senses - speech, smell, sight, touch, even hearing. But I was incredibly aroused at the same time.

Dafne went over to her drawers and threw several lengths of fresh, white rope on the bed in front of me. She used the first of these to tie my wrists and elbows behind my back, the second one to wrap around my body, above and below my breasts, pinning my arms to my sides. The next rope was tied to the bands of rope around me, close to my left breast, pulling the bands together. She took the rope around the back of my neck and tied it by my right breast, again bringing the ropes around me closer. Finally, back around my neck then down to tie the bands between my breasts so that they now clamped and squeezed the flesh caught between.

Dafne moved me in front of the mirror again, and I admired the contrast between the white rope and the black latex. Between the tight strands bulged two black globes, identifiable as my breasts only by the erect nipples straining against the smooth, shiny material.

"How does that feel?" she asked, standing behind me and also looking at my reflection. She put her arms around me and fondled my breasts, rolling my nipples between thumb and forefinger, pulling on them until I moaned and writhed in her grasp.

"Just a couple of more things to add before you' re ready," she murmured. Ready for what, I wondered as she led me away from the mirror.

She reached between my legs and pulled open a zip which ran from the small of my back to my belly. I couldn't see what she was doing because of the restrictions of the gas mask, but I felt something quite slender pushed into my rectum, followed by something much more substantial being worked into my vagina, comprehensively filling me. I also felt something being positioned between my pussy lips and against my clitoris, before the zip was closed again and, like the others, padlocked.

"Let's give those a test run while we make a nice video for your fans," Dafne smiled, "kneel down." I did as she ordered, and she wrapped the remaining two ropes around my legs, affixing thigh to ankle in a frogtie. She picked up her video camera and a remote control.

"And… ACTION!" she cried, starting the camera recording and pressing a button on the remote.

Suddenly, the vibrator inside me burst into life, along with the device nestled against my clitoris, combining to provide a startling level of stimulation. My body spasmed in response, tensing my muscles but the tight bondage held me firmly in place. I moaned loudly into the gag and the mask, only able to writhe impotently, pulling uselessly against the ropes to try and relieve the tension.

Dafne pressed another button and, instantly, a searing pain erupted in my rectum. I screamed and bucked even harder, desperate to break free and run from this agony. I lost my balance and fell over onto my side, unable to put out a hand prevent or soften the impact. I rolled around in an attempt to do something, anything, to relieve the torture I was suffering as shock after shock - I realised that the thing in my arse must be delivering electric shocks - hit me. I looked over at Dafne with a pleading look in my eyes, begging her to stop, but then remembered that she couldn't see my eyes through the mirrors covering them. As far as she was concerned, my 'face' was expressionless.

I wriggled and squirmed, screaming as loudly as I could, trying to make her realise that this was too much for me to take, but she just carried on filming and pressing that damn button. Does she not notice, I wondered, doesn't she care, or does she just think this is great footage, too good to stop?

Even as the painful shocks continued, the vibrator and clit stimulator were working away, forcing me in the other direction. As my arousal built, another bolt of lightning in my rectum would kill it, only for it to rise again. But gradually the intoxicating pleasure outweighed the sobering pain and, although it seemed to take an eternity, I reached an orgasm which was so powerful that it made me shudder uncontrollably for several minutes. When it finally subsided, I went completely limp and lay unmoving on the floor. Thankfully, the shocks and vibrations had also stopped at that point, leaving me to try and recover.

"Well, I think that was a successful test," Dafne said as she untied my legs, "now for the main event." Hooking a finger under the ropes around my body, she pulled me to my feet and led me downstairs, into the sitting room. She had arranged her dining chairs into a circle for some reason, and made me kneel on the wooden floor in the middle of them. I had no energy left to resist her and, knowing that mercy wasn't going to be forthcoming, all I could do was hope that she wasn't actually going to kill me - and that moment, it seemed a distinct possibility.

"Do you like these new speakers Stefan built for me?" she asked, pointing to a large, very ugly wooden box. It had a mahogany veneer finish, with black material on the front covering the woofers and tweeters, or whatever the bits which deliver the noise are called. What is she talking about, I thought, why on earth would I ever be interested in her sound system, let alone right now?!

She turned the speaker around and I saw that the back was a plain piece of plywood fitted into grooves in the sides and base. Again, I wondered what was going on. She slid the back panel up, and I was surprised to see that the box was completely empty. My look of blank incomprehension was completely lost behind the impersonalising mask, so I put my head on one side like a dog questioning its master.

"Okay, get in," Dafne said impatiently, as if I should have already guessed what was expected of me and acted accordingly. I looked at her in disbelief and shook my head fearfully.

"You don't want to get in? Well that's fine," she said offhandedly, "but the Book Group is going to be here in five minutes, so you can either stay there and show them your lovely latex outfit and rope accessories, or you can hide in the box, it's up to you." Oh my God, I thought, you can't do this! I can't be seen like this, by them! My mind froze in terror at the prospect of such humiliation.

"Three minutes," my tormentor continued, looking pointedly at her watch. Snapping out of my torpor, I frantically shuffled forwards and forced myself into the box, struggling as it started to roll away from me on its casters. Eventually, I crammed myself inside and heard Dafne sliding the back into place once more, trapping me in the dark confines of the box.

Except that it wasn't dark. To my horror, I found that light was streaming in through the material covering the front of the box, and I could see everything in front of me, the whole room, which would soon be full of people I knew and, more importantly, knew me!

I felt the box being wheeled backwards, out of the circle of chairs, back into what I hoped was a dark and distant corner. But the movement stopped far too soon as far as I was concerned, and I knew that I would still be very much on display. Dafne's legs came into view in front of me, and then she squatted down, staring through the gauze directly at me.

"There you go," she smiled. "Don't panic, while you can see out into the brightly lit room, it's very difficult to see into the dark interior of the box, so they won't see you, as long as you don't move around too much, and keep quiet so you don't attract attention." Giving me a final wave, she stood up and walked away, leaving me alone to contemplate my horrible predicament.

Before I had had time to process what was happening, I heard the doorbell ring, followed by voices in the hall, and I knew that my ordeal was about to start in earnest. One by one, the ladies of the village walked into the room and took their seats only feet from where I was imprisoned, bound, gagged and rubberised. All I could think about was the looks of astonishment and disgust I would receive if they discovered me…

"Sally won't be taking part in our discussion today," Dafne was saying once they had all sat down with a cup of tea and a biscuit. "I'm afraid she's… indisposed."

"Oh, poor thing!" I heard Julia, the vicar's wife, say, "what's wrong with her?"

"Well," Dafne replied, "when I saw her earlier, she'd lost her voice, but I think she was suffering some kind of internal pains or spasms."

"Oh dear, do you know if she's called the doctor?" This was from Belinda, a local farmer's wife, and mother of a child in my class.

"No, it's not that serious," Dafne responded dismissively, "she just needs some quiet time on her own. Shall we get started?" Thankfully, they moved away from talking about me, and began discussing the book we had been reading that month. As they went through the usual process of sharing their opinions and arguing about the minutiae of the story, I tuned out and relaxed somewhat, grateful that I had survived without discovery.

"More tea, anyone?" Dafne asked after about an hour, receiving murmurings of agreement in response. She stood up to leave the room but, as she did so, she picked up a suspiciously familiar-looking remote. "How about a little music before we resume?" She pressed some buttons before disappearing in the directional of the kitchen.

Two things happened simultaneously. Classical music began to play somewhere across the room and, at the same moment, the vibrator and clit stimulator started, causing a startled reaction from my body. I banged my head on the top of the box and my knees reflexively splayed out and pressed against the sides. I fought to stop myself moaning as well, biting hard on the rubber in my mouth, hoping the gag and the gas mask would stifle what noise did escape me.

As I recovered myself a little, opening my eyes which I had clamped shut in the effort to control my reaction, I looked out at the room to find that the women sitting closest to me had turned and were staring straight at me!

"Something wrong?" Dafne called out as she returned with a fresh pot of tea.

"I'm afraid this speaker isn't working," the woman to my left, the vicar's wife, replied.

"And when you turned it on, it made a really strange noise and started shaking." It was the woman sitting on my right, who was now leaning in for a closer look, her face only inches from mine. To my horror, I realised that it was Marion Glover, my headmistress and boss! I fought the urge to scream in terror, trying to still the pounding of my heart and the whistling of air in and out of my nostrils.

"Let me take a look," Dafne said, inserting herself between the two women and crouching down in front of me. She banged the 'speaker' hard on the top a couple of times, as if trying to get it to work. "Hmm, maybe if I reset it…"

I saw her point the remote control, press a button, and my world exploded in pain as a powerful electric shock fired into me. The need to scream, to express some of that agony, was overwhelming but, using all my reserves of energy and willpower, I resisted. Just as I felt I had survived the worst, and the pain was subsiding, she hit me again! No more, I begged silently as I bit down on the gag, please, I can't take it!

"How annoying," Dafne grumbled, "it's brand new as well. I'll have to get Stefan to have a look at it later. Let's carry on with the meeting, shall we?" The vibrators stopped, along with the music, and Dafne returned to her seat. Marion continued to stare into the box until she was eventually brought back into the conversation as it resumed. A sense of relief and exhaustion flooding through me, I slumped against the side of my wooden prison and let my body relax.

The meeting went on for another two hours, moving from discussion of the book of the month, to village gossip, to arrangements for the harvest festival, and the tea was replaced by glasses of wine as the group relaxed into the afternoon. Totally spent by my unnerving experience of being so close to total disaster, I paid little attention, dozing and drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Well, ladies, that was fun, but shall we draw the meeting to a close at this point?" Dafne was saying as she stood up.

"Goodness, is that the time?" someone remarked as they all gradually made their way out, "you are naughty, Dafne, keeping us here so long, but thanks for an excellent meeting!" Just another way to torture me, I thought, making the meeting twice as long as usual.

"I hope Sally feels better soon," Marion said, "do give her our best when you see her."

"I'm sure she already knows," Dafne replied archly, "and I'm sure she'll be feeling better very soon. In fact…" I watched them leave the room, shepherded into the hall by the hostess, thankful that my 'adventure' would soon be over. But then, just as she was pulling the door closed behind her, I noticed the remote control in her hand as she pointed it in my direction. Instantly, the vibrator inside me and the device pressed against my clitoris came alive once more, taking me completely by surprise.

As they assaulted me with incessant waves of stimulation, I didn't have the energy left to resist. As my arousal mounted uncontrollably, in the background I heard the women saying their goodbyes and, eventually, the sound of the front door closing. That seemed to be a trigger, as my body went into spasm and I cried out, no longer able to hold it in. The orgasm hit me with incredible force, making me react even more violently, and the box began to move around on its tiny wheels before, very slowly, toppling over, crashing onto its side.

I don't know if I passed out at that point, but I only vaguely remember being released from the box. By the time I reconnected with the world, the mask, gag, hood and ropes had all gone, and I was lying on my back on the floor. I was relieved to find that the toys had also been removed and the crotch zip was open, allowing cool air to reach my overheated pussy.

After allowing me a few minutes to recuperate, Dafne helped me to get up and stagger over to the sofa. She handed me a glass of wine, which I had to hold in two hands as they were both shaking violently.

"You okay, honey?" she asked solicitously, sounding as if she genuinely cared. I nodded in response, running my fingers, still locked in the latex gloves, through my sweat-soaked hair.

"Actually no, I'm not okay," I said seriously, "you went too far this time, Dafne."

"Really?" she replied, amusement in her voice, "how so?"

"How so?! They nearly discovered me in that damn box!" I spat venomously.

"Did they indeed?" There was no hint of remorse or even surprise at my reaction. "How did that make you feel?"

"How do you think?! I was fucking terrified!"

"And how about afterwards?" she asked calmly, "when they had all gone and you knew you had survived?"

"I… I…" Dafne suddenly reached out and grabbed my hair, pulling my head back, forcing me to look her in the eye.

"Admit it," she growled, "it was the best feeling of your life! I bet you never felt more alive!" Before I could reply, she twisted my head to the side and pressed her lips against mine, thrusting her tongue between my teeth and wrestling for superiority with my own tongue. It was no contest - as usual, she was completely in control.

"Okay, I admit it!" I gasped when she finally let me up for air, "I found it hot… incredibly hot! Being so close to everyone whilst tied up and in latex… and that gas mask! That was so sick! It made me feel so isolated! How did you ever think of that?!"

"That's my job, pet," she smiled, "to think of new and innovative ways to turn you on. I hope you appreciate it!"

"I do, honestly," I responded earnestly, "I was just a bit freaked earlier, sorry. I love the things we do or, more accurately, that you do to me."

"Good, I'm glad we got that sorted out," she said, stroking my face with her fingers, "now, you start back to school in a few days, don't you? I'm sure you have lots to do to get ready, and Stefan and I are going away on holiday at the end of next week, so this is our last 'session' for a while. I think we should go out with a bang, don't you?" I smiled and nodded my head in agreement.

The session turned into an all-nighter and, as I staggered home, doing the walk of shame the next morning, I was sore in so many places, and I hoped that the rope burns all over me would disappear before I turned up for work, but I had the broadest, silliest smile on my face.

I knew that a couple of weeks break would do me the world of good, and focusing on my job at the start of term was paramount. But I couldn't help looking forward to the resumption of our activities, wondering what new devilment Dafne would devise to torment and tantalise me…