Every time that I wake up in bondage, I get that amazing thrill of believing that I’m in ACTUAL trouble.  It’s a fleeting moment of bliss.  A glorious white-hot flame snuffed out as my consciousness returns and floods my imagination with memories of the actual circumstances.  Self-bondage.  Whether on my own or at the direction of another, I’m always the one who tied the knots or buckled the straps.  And even though my release is sometimes at the discretion of someone far away in possession of my remote-control log in information, I’m still not in their custody.  Not really.  I may not be able to escape the rigging holding me bound, but I’m still safe in my basement and out of harms way.  I’m controlled, but I’m not owned.  

I greatly resent how the truth yanks me out of my cloudy euphoria.  It’s the fucking worst.

I blink my eyes.  It’s dark and my vision is still blurry.  What was I doing last night?  Was I out with Sarah drinking again?  Kentucky didn’t even have a game last night.  Deep breath.  Relax and wait.  You’ll remember everything.  Any minute.

While I wait to remember and for my senses to come back, I use my body to explore my situation.  My arms are wrapped behind me.  If feels a lot like a reverse straitjacket (still spelling it correctly Miss @Julanni !).  My fingers wiggle a little, but they’re encased in the fabric.  And that’s odd because I don’t have a straitjacket in my collection of self-bondage gear.  And if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to rig myself in one with my hands encased.  

The blurriness is not subsiding.  My head feels so heavy.  I barely register the wave of pitch black that washes over my vision…

-----------------------------

“WHAT THE FUCK!”  

My head snaps up from where it had been hanging as I jolt awake from unconsciousness.  This is very different than easingawake from a normal sleep.  It seemed like moments ago that I had woken from a dream to find myself in bondage.  I had been calmly testing the restraints.  I remember it clear as day.  Now my chest is heaving, gulping in panicked breathes.  Great lung-fulls of air.  My heart is pounding like a jackhammer in my chest.  Adrenaline is flooding every muscle in my body.  Something has triggered me into full-on fight or flight.  

My body resists its captivity.  My legs are folded in half at the knee.  They flex as hard as possible.  I can feel something solid against my feet but it’s not the ground.  I can tell from the pressure under my armpits and from the dozens of thin cords all around my torso that I’m hung up on something.  A post?  I need to stand up and get my bearings and I try to extend my legs down to see if I can reach the ground, but my legs do not respond at all to my mental directions.  There are more smaller cords all around my legs, forming a kind of webbing around my shins and my thighs.  And even more dominant, thicker straps wrap around my ankles and thighs, all the way up by my hips.  It’s not use trying.  My legs are useless to me.  

“I told you little Kentucky flower.  I would enjoy seeing you as my captive.  Don’t you remember?”

Fucking fuck!  It’s dim but not pitch black.  The voice is behind me, so I can’t see who it belongs too.  But in spite of low light, my fully dilated pupils can clearly see that this is NOT my basement.  I try to look over my shoulder toward the voice.  The thick, overlapping ropes around my chest, shoulders and neck severely limit that attempt.

“Who are you?  What the hell is going on?”  Then a sharp pain!  “Yeohh!”

“Oh, you shouldn’t make sharp moves like that, Captive Tina.  Not unless you enjoy a painful reminder.”

I cringe and squeeze my eyes tight.  I had tried, hard, to look back over my shoulder, and doing so yanked on a network of tethers I hadn’t yet noticed that were connecting different elements of my bondage to extremely tight clawed clamps on my nipples.  The fierce metal teeth ripped at my sensitive skin.  God, it burned so bad, it took my breath away.

“Remind me of what?  I don’t know what’s happening.”  This isn’t my fictional version of me that I use in my stories.  THAT Tina would be resolute and cocky.  This is real life Tina.  I’ve had a few real-life fights with lots on the line.  But I’m out of my realm.  I’m barely keeping it together.  

I heard him laugh.  He’d moved from directly behind me.  More to my left, but still out of sight.  I didn’t try to look this time.  

“You must be extremely disrespectful, Captive Tina, to have forgotten the grave insult you paid me.  Truly, such astounding arrogance!  You do not remember?  Do you insult master’s so often you do not even recall?”

“Aarrrahhhh!”  My back would have jumped away from the wooden post had I not been so securely strapped to it.  My captor slapped the left cheek of my ass with an object.  Something hard but flexible.  Not a crop.  My lip trembled.  I was sure a welt was forming where I’d been struck.

“Stop!  Just stop for a second!”  I shook my head to clear it and induced another round of agony from the nipple clamps.  “Goddamn it.  Fuck!”  The laugh became a snicker and moved just into my peripheral vision.  The man stood in the shadows.  I could not make out many details yet.

“First you insult me.  Now you wound me, Tina.  You really don’t remember?”  With him in front of me, I start exploring my arm bondage.  Both hands are pulled behind me as far out to the opposite sides as the post in my back will allow.  One of the tethers in the torture web holds each hand encasing mitten stretched out to the ends of the wooden post making a cross at my hips and is also anchored at the cross post under my armpits.  The tether is so taught that even the slightest tug with my sleeved arms is transferred through the tether network to my nipple clamps.  

“Please.  Just tell me.  Tell me who you are.  What’s happening??”  My stomach growls and I realize I have no idea how long I’ve been a prisoner.  I don’t know where I am or how I got here.

“OK, Tina.  I’d hoped you were not so feeble.  I’d hoped you were the hero you proclaimed yourself to be.  I am @lurvig .  A name you surely don’t remember if you even bothered to learn it in the first place.  Which is unlikely considering your carelessness in other areas.  Let’s see if THIS refreshes your memory, little Kentucky flower.”

Tina gasped as a tablet screen was presented inches from her face.  There on the screen was an image of a post she’d made on DeviantArt.  She’s reposted a beautiful pencil drawling of a woman heavily bound in ropes.  She was almost naked.  She was hogtied.  Crossed wooden posts were lashed together and secured to her back as part of her restraints.  She was tethered by her neck and ankles to the ground.  The woman appeared to be struggling and in agony.

Tina felt the familiar warmth of arousal at the tantalizing sight of a gorgeous woman in such extreme distress.  

“You can’t hide your shame from me, pretty little slut.”  He stated giving one of Tina’s fully erect nipples a gentle caress around the clamp.  “Now read what you wrote, please, Captive Tina.”

“OK.  OK.”  With a shaky voice, Tina read.  “Here it is.  My next mission.  I have a busy week but by the week after, I’ll know how this feels.  Thanks @lurvig for the amazing inspiring image.”  Tina scowled at Lurvig.  “I didn’t insult you.  I complimented you!”  Lurvig ignored Tina’s exclamation.

“And I responded.  See right here.”  The screen scrolled to the next part of the exchange.  “You are pretty welcome.  I am glad you like my picture and it will be great to see you tied up like this next week…maybe I could make you my captive in one of my next pictures…”  Lurvig cleared his throat and waited, seemingly for Tina to read her part, next.”

“Point of clarification Sir.  I don’t post pictures of myself.  But I do provide detailed narratives of the experiences.”  Tina tried to turn her hips.  She felt the cross-post creak only slightly.  I rotated a hair, which was enough for the tethers to send a tingle through her nipples.  “And then I posted a smiling face.”

“Yes, how cute, Captive Tina!”  Lurvig said with sarcasm as the screen scrolled again.  “I know and it will be nice to read about your experience and it feels to you to be bound like this….”  He did not have to pause.  Tina knew it was her turn to read.

“Perfect.  Oh yeah, as for making me one of you captives, that would be beyond fabulous.  Just be advised.  I’m hard to hand onto.  Been escaping tight bondage for a long time.  You’ll have to bring you’re a game.”  Tina’s voice lowered as she read and she began to understand Lurvig’s motivation.  He scrolled again revealing another of his comments along with an image of yet another tightly bound damsel.

“Thank you for your advice….I will remember that when I will capture you and will tie you up extra tight…maybe tighter than my captive in this picture.”

Tina stared at the detailed image.  The woman’s body has so tightly bound the ropes actually distorted her figured with humanly impossible indentations.  Wooden posts were once again incorporated into the brilliant design, reinforcing her upright posture by intersecting at key points like her rigid collar and the cross post tied off and pulled up between her legs.  It was a true work of art.  Without prompting, Tina whispered…

“Tighter?  L-O-L.  That’s definitely escape proof as it is.”  Tina’s heart was full of dread as Lurvig read the final line of dialogue.

“Yes.  It is.  But there is always a way to make tighter.  Can’t wait to lead you on my leash like that.”  Tina saw his teeth glean as he smirked at her.  “Today is December 23, pretty little Kentucky flower.  What was the date of our first conversation?”  Tina looked from his teeth back to the screen.”

“It says September 28.”  Tina tried to rotate her shoulders.  She felt the cross-post under her armpits creak like the other one.  Doing so tightened the cords around her throat as well as pulled on her clamps.  Tina was forced to relax and let the post rotate the few millimeters back to where it started.

“That is correct little bondage slut, Tina.  You made me wait.”  Lurvig brushed Tina’s sweat drenched, curly blond locks away from her eyes so he could see the silent tears rolling down her cheeks.  “You promised me you’d tell me how you liked the bondage.  I waited and waited.  But then I realized you didn’t intend to keep your promise.  And I would be denied the chance to have the well-known escape expert challenge my works of art.  No.  No.  I could not allow that.  A promise is a promise, Captive Tina.  And I am a man who respects a promise.  And I am willing to use the time and the energy to bring your promise into reality.  Which is what I have done pretty Kentucky flower.  Little bondage slut, Tina.”  Lurvig put away the tablet. “And now, here we are.”  

Tina closed her eyes in disbelief.  She still had no memory of being captured.  He must have used a drug or something.  She is so alert.  She is always on her guard.  How patient he must have been to have waited for an opening.  And how helplessly he had tied her.  Just as he had promised.  Lurvig held up an enormous, curved and studded penis gag.  This was the very object he’s used to spank Tina just minutes ago.

“Any last words before I gag you my nice little big mouth?”

To be Contunued!