So there's a lady I know named Jelle who I really like, as a writer and as a person.
At one point, she wanted some ideas for a story she is writing, and posted a journal asking
'what would you do to a ninja you capture as she tries to assassinate you?'
So I replied. . .
I would strip her naked, then tie her to a heavy wooden chair without arms; I'd pull her arms behind the back of the chair; I'd jerk her elbows painfully, forcing them to touch, pulling her shoulders back and forcing her breasts out, then bind her arms together with rope, wrapped from her wrists to her elbows.
I'd spread her legs wide, bind her knees to the front corners of the chair, forcing her feet back and bind them to the rear legs of the chair; I'd gag her, but I wouldn't blindfold her. Not yet.
I'd sit on her, straddling her body with my legs, and I'd stare into her pale face, watching her eyes as the full force of her situation strikes her - the realization that she is completely helpless, that her freedom, her very life, rests entirely ion my hands.
I would smile at her, and she would realize that I can see her thought, and she would whimper helplessly as I raise my hands and close off her nose.
I would watch her as she turns from white to red, then darker: she would twitch and squirm as her breath runs out, struggling against her bonds, but she would still lie pinned, helpless in her bonds and beneath my weight.
I would watch as her face grows darker still, feeling her struggle and squirm beneath me, her eyes rolling back in her head as the last of her air runs out. Then, finally, as the last of her air is gone, her eyes would close. . .
Then I'd jerk my hand away and she'd take a deep gulp of fresh air, coughing and gasping as it rolls down into her starved lungs. I'd smile again and say: "You're not getting off that easy, girl; the fun is just beginning. . ."
that's quite long :3
I'm just getting started: after playing with her breasts a little bit, I'd untie her legs from the chair, then force her to stand and drag her to a large trough of water I'd have placed at hand beforehand. I'd force her to stand before it, standing behind her with a strong grip on her hair. I'd pull her close, putting my lips to her ear. "Make a wish," I'd whisper, then force her head down into the water.
I'd hold her down, delighting in her useless struggles, loving the feel of her tight naked ass grinding against me. Then, when I thought she'd had enough, I'd take her out again. I'd smile at her coughing and gasping for air, then I'd untie her gag and let her spit it out. Of course, she'd beg and plead for mercy, but I'd only laugh at her, then force her over the edge of the trough again.
But I wouldn't put her in the water; not yet. Instead, I'd pull open my pants and let my cock spring out; I'd rub it between her thighs, then press the tip of it against her tight little rear entrance. Doubtless, she'd have some screaming and crying to do, and I'd enjoy it before shoving her back down into the water.
As she goes under, I'd press my cock into her little asshole, then simply wait: before long, she wold struggle to rise, squirming helplessly in her bonds and my hands: of course, there'd be no escape: but as she struggles and wriggles, she'd be fucking me, moving herself up and down my cock like she craved it.
Before she died, I'd let her up, and let her cough and gasp for air again. I'd smile at her(she couldn't see it, but she'd know I am smiling, gloating over her) then force her down into the water once more until I came in her ass, until she would almost wish she could die rather than live with the humiliation.
When I was finally done, when I'd had enough, I'd push her under one last time and just hold her there, enjoying her futile struggles while they lasted until she went limp.
Then I'd pull her out and throw her to the floor; with a final spark of life left, she'd gap for air, then before her consciousness went blank, she'd hear my laughter in her ears: "There's no escape girlie: next comes the fun bit!"
I have a bit of swimming planed for her
Yeah, well, her swimming lessons will have to wait, because before long, she'd find herself back in he chair, her bound arms over the back of it, her legs spread wide open like they were before; once more, she'd be gagged with her mouth stuffed, a tight cleave gag holding it in, pulling painfully at the corners of her mouth. No doubt worries and fears would flit through her ind as she gradually comes back to consciousness, finding herself like that. She look up to see me watching her with a grin, a small black bag in my hands.
I'd sit in her lap, my legs straddling hers, staring closely into her worried, fearful eyes. "Rise and shine, sunshine!" I'd say, then give her a quick kiss on her gagged lips, pinching her nipples as I do so, squeezing and kneading her breasts between my fingers. Against her will, she'd grow excited, her nipples hardening with arousal, then without warning I'd break it off and slip the bag over her head.
This would not be a plastic bag like we have today, but tightly-woven silk or linen; it would let a tiny amount of air pass through the close-set weave, just enough to prolong her suffering as it grows hotter and stuffier around her. Blindly she'd shake her head and moan, but I'd wrap a cord around her neck and pull it tight around the bottom of the bag. . .
Helplessly, she'd shake and moan, fighting to shake off the bag, to breathe, almost killing herself trying to draw in enough air through the tight weave, and I'd be there to enjoy every moment of it, pawing and pinching her breasts, sliding one hand down between her legs to rub at her slit, slipping a few fingers inside of her to rub at her clit and make her moans rise with helpless pleasure.
In the bag her vision would already be dark, but as her air rapidly fades away it would turn red as she struggled against the pleasure, her panicked breaths going faster as her helpless gagged cries rose with pleasure and despair, shuddering and screaming, she'd come to an agonizing climax as the last of her air is gone and everything goes dark. . .
But even as she faded away, she'd know that I wouldn't let her go: she'd wake up, and when she awoke, she'd be bound for something even more.
I think about something similar with a leather hood
-which is exactly what she'd wake up wearing: a heavy leather hood to keep her blind. Expertly fitted, it would stick to her face like a second skin, only two little holes for her to breathe through, and a hole in the back for her hair to fall down across her shoulders and bare back.
She'd awaken sitting in the chair, still with her arms bound, but her legs free(if the word free can be applied to her at all) At first she'd only notice that her nipples ached, little different from the rest of her, then I'd jerk on the lash and she'd whimper into her gag as the leash jerked on the nipple clamps she'd be wearing.
[Mhmm, sounds good
Good, but unfinished; the dratted thing posted before I was done!
Minor aside: looking back at the comments other people have left, I notice mine are a lot longer and more detailed; not hard to see who the writer is, is it?
lol, indeed not hard to see ]
Dratted thing posted before I was finished!
Blind, almost deafened by the tight hood that covered her ears, she'd have no choice but to follow blindly where I led her; she'd hear through the hood the shouts and echoes of the grand house she'd passed through on her way to kill me; now beneath her hood she'd blush with embarrassment and shame as she feels the stares and lustful eyes of the people there on her naked helpless body.
I'd lead her out of the house into the busy street where she'd be plainly visible for all to see; no doubt she'd stop in the doorway, moaning and whimpering into her gag, shaking her head desperately, pleading with me for mercy, but I would show her none: pulling at the leash and nipple clamps until she was forced to follow or lose her nipples, she'd be forced out the door and down the steps into the muddy street.
I'd lead her down the street, gaining a lustful following of men(and women) eager to see what I'd do with her. What I'd do with her, to start with at least, is force her to walk through puddles of mud and filth in the street and gleefully watch her as she blindly struggles for balance. Doubtless she'd soon slip and fall in the muck, the filth covering her naked body, and she'd slip and slide on her bare feet, trying to rise up before I tore her nipples off.
All too soon, though, our trip would end, and she'd soon wish she could only have taken longer, because I force her up the steps of a gallows; she'd realize, too late, where she was brought to and struggle and scream, crying helplessly, begging for mercy, but all she'd get is a whipping on her naked ass to force her up the stairs onto the gallows trap-door.
She'd tremble and cry as I lowered the noose over her head and pulled the noose tight around her neck. I'd be sure the rope was pulled taut so she'd have to stand on her toes: if she drops to her heels, the rope will tighten that tiny amount that is too much for her and she'll slowly strangle, so she'll force herself up on her toes, her legs trembling from muscle fatigue as I make sure of all her bonds, tightening them an extra measure, forcing her elbows that little bit closer together, pulling her shoulders a little bit further back, closing the rope a little bit tighter around her wrists to make them turn red with blood flow loss.
Finally done, I'd unhook the leash from the chain connecting her nipple clamps; by then, she'd be hanging her head, weeping helplessly, praying only for her torment to end.
I'd reach out and grasp her clamped nipples, making her whimper and moan as I pulled on them, quivering helplessly in her tight bonds. "I'm not going to hang you," I'd say to her. "I'm going to leave you like this for anyone to come and do whatever they want with you; torture you, fuck you, hang you; the trap-door switch is ready to hand. So if you don't want to die, you'd better make sure everyone is real happy with your performance!"
She moan and tremble, shaking her head, but I'd only laugh at her.
"If you're still alive tomorrow morning," I'd say then, "then I'll send you back where you came from."
Then with that tiny gleam of hope, which is more torturous than the blackest despair, I'd give her a kiss on her gagged leathern lips, then turn and walk away with a laugh, leaving her to the first of a crowd of thousands, all eager to have their way with her helpless naked body.
sounds good, but the captor i have planned is a bit to greedy to share
Ah, but think of what I'll come back to tomorrow: to see her standing on the gallows, her pale body a network of whipmarks, her breasts mauled, her ass hot and red from the spankings, drying cum and sweat and other fluids splattered across her; she'd barely stand on trembling ankles, moments away from strangling even as I approach, her mind dead, blank, consumed with pain and horror and despite herself, almost endless pleasure across a night of hell while I lay all night comfortable and warm.
She would tremble, cold and exhausted and fearful, broken in body and spirit.
Even the greediest of captors couldn't help but be warmed by the sight!
Maybe, juuust maybe
Just think of the look on her face after I'd release her from her hood; red, flushed, streaked with tears and sweat and snot from her long hellish night. Exhausted physically and mentally, she could offer no resistance as I unbind her, then rebind her for whatever purpose I please.
Perhaps I would go for something simple, binding her hands and feet, then carrying her away to my bed; I could prop her up between my legs and take a hold of her hair, then use her mouth to my heart's content. Once contented, I could simply pull the covers over and use her body like a hot water bottle; doubtless, she would be grateful for even the slightest comfort of the bed, and fall into a deep grateful sleep, well on her way to becoming my brainwashed toy.
Or, perhaps I could tightly bind her, arms and legs bent together in an impossibly-tight hogtie, then use her soft flesh for a warm pillow.
Perhaps more: I might pup-tie her down on her elbows and knees, put a collar around her neck and lead her about by a leash; I would sit in a chair and make my new little pet lick my balls for her supper before locking her away for the night in her own little cage.
Or perhaps I could really break out the leather: bind her inescapably from head to toe in tight leather; armbinder, hood, leather catsuit, tall boots, skin-tight from crown to heel, covering every inch of her in a firm hard leather except for the tits, pussy, and mouth I'd leave for my own use; I could fill her mouth with all manner of things, from foul-tasting herbs, a ballgag, a ring gag because I love to hear her moan and see her drool, my own cock. . . So many options! While her breasts would be bare and open, her nipples fair game to my pinching fingers and cruel clamps.
I could toy and play with her helpless body, making her moan with pleasure, driving her almost to the point of orgasm, then let her fall down again. Then again, closer and closer, almost to the peak of pleasure before abandoning her. I could bind my leather slave to a rack and leave her there, helpless, hurting, pleasure-starved, locked in sensory deprivation, begging and moaning for my touch.
I have some pet and pillow play planned and a bit of it done already
Cool. Will I get to see it anytime soon?
Progress is a tad slow atm, i plan on working more on ot today