A Bondage Correspondence
jpj.re...@gmail.com
Provided by: BDSM Library
Synopsis: A fictional exchange of letters between two people; the theme
is pretty obvious from the first paragraph, so I'll just let you read
for yourself.
A Bondage Correspondence
by "Des Mios"
Advertisement in "Domination Quarterly", Spring issue, page 33:
Stern Mistress requires recruits for her stable of slaves. Only very
submissive
males and females need apply. Your interests will be considered, but
you will be
expected to pass an entrance test involving total obedience and severe
humiliation. If you are satisfactory, you will be treated well but very
strictly. Apply with humble begging letter, including full-frontal nude
photo,
to P.O. Box 69, -------. See photo.
P.O. Box 222, -------.
May 19th.
Dear "Stern Mistress",
Please accept this letter as a humble application to be considered for
inclusion
in your slave retinue.
The accompanying photograph is enclosed in the hope that will
condescend to look
at it and see a possible candidate for your entrance test. The humble
applicant
is 29 years old, 5 ft 11 ins tall (if you allow him to stand -- mostly
he should
be on his knees where he belongs) and weighs 157 pounds when naked (the
normal
humiliating state for all slaves like him). Your experienced and
critical eye
will see for yourself that his 'equipment' is not impressive, only a
paltry 6
inches long when fully hard... but he begs to humbly suggest that it
has given
some pleasure to a few women who have used it (and no doubt you have
much
knowledge of how it might pleasure you!).
The abject applicant has one overriding interest -- to grovel at the
feet of
such a commanding Mistress as yourself. Your photograph excited him as
soon as
he saw it, especially (if you will permit him to say so) your lovely
long
shapely stocking-clad legs and the look of stern but kind arrogance on
your
beautiful face. He humbly begs that, even if he fails your test, you
might deign
to send him a large photo of your dominating self, so that he can kneel
before
it and bemoan the fact that he was not worthy to serve you.
Very humbly, your prospective slave claims to be extremely submissive
and
obedient, and will gladly accept and enjoy any treatment you might wish
to give
him. He does particularly like being tightly bound in severe and
constricting
positions for long periods and being teased and tormented by his
Mistress while
so completely helpless and at her mercy. Also, of course, he will
eagerly give
pleasure to his Mistress in any way she may require. What use would a
slave be,
if he is not glad to suffer ANYTHING at the hands of his adored
Mistress?
Awaiting your reply with great anticipation,
I humbly hope to be
your very obedient slave.
P.O. Box 69, -------.
May 25th.
Slave applicant Number 8,
You might be suitable. Your test will take place on May 30th. Be on the
corner
of Forrest Avenue and West Street at 6:30 p.m., wearing the enclosed
badge; a
large black car will stop close to you. Get in, remember your number
above, and
be prepared to obey all commands completely and instantly.
You will suffer some pain (but you will not really be injured) and a
good deal
of discomfort and humiliation. You will be returned to an address of
your own
choice before 2 a.m. the next morning.
Within two days after that, you will write me a letter describing IN
DETAIL your
perceptions of the test and your reactions to it. It is very imprtant
that you
write completely honestly and explicitly.
Two other matters: firstly, as a dominant Mistress, I expect slaves or
prospective slaves to address me in a properly respectful manner, which
means
using capital letters every time you refer to me in writing; secondly,
do NOT
repeat your childish self-delusion of referring to yourself as "he" --
if you
are to join my slave stable, you must freely admit that it is YOU who
are my
slave, completely insignificant and utterly worthless unless I choose
to bother
myself with you.
Mistress Marvelle
P.O. Box 222, -------.
May 31st.
Most marvellous Mistress Marvelle,
In obedience to Your instructions, i, slave applicant number 8, am
writing this
letter to describe my experience of the test i was privileged to be
given last
night.
i waited, trembling with anticipation -- and a little fear, I admit --
on the
corner You nominated, from 6 o'clock, because i wanted to make quite
sure I
wouldn't be late. At 6:30 sharp, a car pulled up beside me and the
driver leaned
out and called to me, "Number 8? Get in." (i still can't guess how she
recognized the badge from that distance... unless it gives off some
sort of
signal?)
i got in the back door, which the driver had opened. The door closed
and i found
myself in the rear part of a very big limousine -- the space between
the rear
seat and the back of the front seats (which was completely closed off
by a heavy
curtain) was very wide, and in the middle of it was a small platform
raised a
few inches above the floor. Also, i noticed the side and back windows
were
curtained, too.
i hardly had time to realise i was alone before a voice (the driver's,
i
guessed) spoke from a hidden speaker: "You have two minutes to strip
naked and
put your clothes neatly in the bag on the seat."
Thinking back on it now, i am ashamed to admit i hesitated -- something
that a
truly submissive slave should never do. (This wasn't quite what i'd
expected; i
thought that You would be waiting for me in the car and would
personally tell me
something about the tests i was about to undergo.) Now i realise that,
if i am
to be Your slave, i can never hope for or (even less) expect ANYTHING;
as a
slave, i must only submit and accept whatever You choose to do to me.
Once i'd got over my first surprise, i wasted no time in taking off my
clothes
and packing them away. By the time i took my underpants down, the
excitement and
nervous anticipation i was feeling had caused my cock to stand up, hard
and
throbbing. And as i waited for what might happen next, I wondered if
You were
perhaps watching me on some kind of closed-circuit TV.
>From then on i had no time to wonder about anything. In quick
succession i was
ordered to put a large rubber ball-gag in my mouth (i almost didn't get
it in!),
to kneel on the platform facing backwards and fasten my ankles widely
apart into
two shackles which protruded on rods from a dome-shaped object, lock my
rigid
prick in a steel ring fitted on top of another protruding rod, put a
thick black
blindfold over my eyes, and finally place my wrists in two more
shackles on yet
two more rods. i managed to keep up with the stream of orders, but only
just...
i'm sure that intensive training at Your skilled hands would make me a
much
quicker slave.
As soon as my wrists were in the shackles, they clicked firmly shut and
i was
utterly helpless -- i couldn't see or speak and my movement was very
restricted.
A moment later it was even more restricted, because i felt the rod
attached to
my cock moving upwards, forcing me to rise on my knees and arch my back
to
prevent my "most precious possession" being very painfully pulled. i
was quite
uncomfortable -- as You no doubt intended -- yet i couldn't help
feeling
excited; my cock must have been standing up like a flagpole, because i
could
feel it throbbing, partly due to the ring around its base keeping it
engorged
with blood.
i felt the car stopping, and wondered what would happen next. The door
opened
and i heard someone get in. Was it You? i asked myself. i feel sure it
was,
because the voice that spoke had just the qualities of arrogance and
command
that fit with with Your photograph... which i have in front of me while
i write
this letter.
"So... this is applicant number 8, is it?" You said with a chuckle.
"Let's have
a look at you." Then i tingled all over with a mixture of humiliation
and
pleasure as Your hands ran quickly over my naked body. Now i understood
why You
had me fix myself in such a vulnerable way... so that You could decide
very
easily whether i am worth bothering with. And i was so helpless...
completely
unable to present what i feel are my best attributes, and utterly
exposed to
Your critical scrutiny.
You fondled my stiff cock for a moment (i was so excited it was almost
enough to
make me come!) and pinched my nipples and prodded the flesh and muscles
of my
tautly stretched belly, legs and arms. i hoped desperately that i might
pass
this first part of my test, and then You might release me to tell me
what other
tests You wanted to put me through.
But then, for quite a long time, nothing happened; the car kept moving,
and i
had time to think about what i'd let myself in for. Although i must
admit that i
WAS a little afraid, i remembered your photograph and felt reassured
that a
Mistress like You would never seriously mistreat a humble slave like
me, so long
as i continued to obey.
At last we stopped, and i heard Your voice again: "I guess we'll give
him a try;
take him inside." i waited for the blindfold and gag to be removed but,
instead,
i felt something else being put on my head. Suddenly i became aware
that i could
hear nothing (it must have been some kind of very thickly padded
helmet). Then
the rod holding my prick was lowered and my wrists were freed from
their
shackles... but only to be tightly bound behind my back. Lastly my
ankles were
released, and two pairs of firm hands helped me out of the car and onto
my feet.
i'd never felt so helpless before, and i began to understand what being
a slave
-- at least, YOUR slave -- would really mean. There was a tug on the
ring still
fastened around the base of my cock, so i had no choice but to start
walking...
very hesitantly, i admit. i'm sure You understand how i felt; i could
see
nothing, i could hear nothing, my consciousness was concentrated on my
prick and
on the tugs that told me where to walk!
i confess i was afraid, too. i know a true slave must trust his
Mistress
completely, but i was only too aware of how anything at all could be
done to me
without any chance of resistance on my part. Then i began to understand
that
this was how it should be -- my naked and utterly defenceless self
subject to my
Mistress' every whim! At that moment i think my training as a true
slave really
began... if You kindly give me a passing grade on this entrance test.
After a while You stopped me and adjusted the position of my feet very
carefully. Suddenly a metal bar was pushed up into my crotch -- i could
feel it
was curved to fit between my bum-cheeks -- until i had to stand almost
on my
tip-toes, and my cock-ring was fastened to it. Next i felt my head
being pulled
up (i guessed by a hook on top of the helmet) to force me to stand up
very
straight. A moment later i realised i was being measured! Tapes were
passed
around my nude body at hips, waist, chest, neck, shoulders, arms,
thighs,
ankles, wrists and i don't remember where else... including my cock
which was
measured VERY carefully after Your hands had skillfully ensured it was
fully
erect.
Suddenly, Your voice sounding as if it came from inside my head
(through
earphones in the helmet?) almost made me jump out of my skin! "Number
8, your
gag will be removed now, but you will NOT speak a single word except as
instructed. Otherwise, you will be whipped quite severely and you will
almost
certainly fail this test."
Most wonderful Mistress, i know You ordered me to write a DETAILED
account of my
test, but i humbly confess that the rest of it is quite confused in my
memory. i
BEG You to forgive me, worthless forgetful applicant that i am, if the
rest of
this description is jumbled or if i leave something important out. So
MUCH was
happening to me, i was learning so much about what bondage and slavery
mean...
but all the time i was becoming more and more certain that i WANT to be
Your
submissive, obedient, adoring, well-trained slave.
The parts of the test that are most hazy, were all the times i was
placed in all
sorts of stringent bondage and left with Your command to call "i humbly
beg for
release" when i could not bear it any more. i remember being tied in a
spreadeagle, both standing up and lying down, and i'm sure i could have
borne it
a lot longer except that my arms and legs seemed to be gradually
stretched
tighter and tighter until i gave in. Being tied securely to a pole i
could have
endured longer, too, but in that case my body from my shoulders to my
knees was
steadily stretched like on a rack until the discomfort was too much for
me.
The bondage i could not endure for long (and i have no idea how long it
was,
because it was impossible to tell how quickly time was passing, being
both blind
and deaf) included being lifted off the floor by my arms bound behind
my back, a
severe hogtie lying ON my tightly bent and bound legs and arms, and
being
suspended by my widely spread ankles. Humbly and desperately i hope
that i was
not TOO weak and fragile for Your high standards, and i can only
promise to try
VERY hard and learn to endure Your bondage more submissively.
If i may mention it, i've just remembered another bondage position You
tested me
with. That was when You tied my wrists and elbows firmly to a pole
attached to
the back of my helmet, and then attached the other end of the pole to
my ankles.
Then i felt Your hands on my cock, which quickly became rock- hard as
You tied
something tightly around its base behind my balls, and added a few
loops along
its shaft. A moment later Your voice said, "you may say 'Please stop'
when the
pull gets as much as you can stand" and simultaneously the tension on
the cord
began to increase. Gradually i was forced to arch forward until it felt
as if my
prick was about to be pulled out by its roots, and eventually i had to
ask You
to stop.
i waited for the tension to slacken off, but it didn't! Instead
something
gripped one of my nipples and pinched it... hard. Instinctively i tried
to pull
away, at the cost of a sharp pain in my tautly stretched cock -- i JUST
managed
to stifle a howl! -- and Your voice in my ears said with a chuckle,
"See, number
8, your cock COULD be pulled further, couldn't it? Now your nipples
will be
tested... you may say 'Stop please' when it gets too much."
With the pain in my prick and the discomfort of my arched posture, it
was
difficult to concentrate on what was being done to my nipples. i THINK
they were
tested with four different things: a clip which squeezed them flat, a
toothed
clamp which was quite painful, pincers with sharp points and some sort
of
suction device. They left my nipples feeling as if they were on fire --
even
now, almost a day later, they are still sensitive as i finger them and
remember.
The other tests, between this variety of bondage, were in some ways
easier to
endure, because i wasn't left in the darkness and silence which made
time seem
to pass so slowly. But they weren't all more pleasant... especially the
whippings!
i must humbly admire Your method of testing my tolerance to discipline,
by
making me count the strokes aloud until i had to beg You to stop. i
wanted so
much to please You that i felt i could always stand just ONE more! The
cane
across my bum-cheeks and thighs, as i was tied over some sort of
whipping horse,
was painful but -- thanks to Your clever psychology -- i endured 24
strokes; i
think that's quite a few more than i've ever had before, but eventually
it was
too much, especially the way Your strong arm was laying each one on a
little
harder than the one before. Please forgive my presumption in saying
that i feel
i performed quite well there.
The whip was a different matter! It was quite unexpected as i was tied
standing
upright with my arms above my head. Your voice said, "Count the
strokes, number
8," just before the whip slashed across my back and wrapped around onto
my
chest, and i nearly passed out from the shock. i fear i failed badly
with only
six strokes, and i can only hope that my endurance would improve with
training.
my buttocks, thighs and back are still very sore, as no doubt You can
guess, and
i'm sure they'll remain so for some days yet. But i consider it a great
honour
to bear these marks of Your hands -- i'll remember tham for a long time
even if
You don't accept me as a slave.
Most vivid of all in my memory, O glorious Mistress, are the tests of
my humble
abilities in giving You pleasure! i remember every detail of being tied
kneeling
and my hands being left free... i think i guessed what was happening
just before
You said, "OK, number 8, let's see what you can do with your tongue and
lips and
fingers." You raised my hands and placed them on Your wonderful smooth,
firm
breasts and at the same time presented to my eager mouth the fragrance
and
lushness of Your -- dare i say it? -- yes, Your PUSSY.
i only regret that my adoring eyes weren't able to drink in the beauty
of Your
body... but i do understand that no slave, far less a mere APPLICANT,
has any
right to see the glory of Your nakedness. At the risk of being terribly
impertinent, i do cherish the hope that one day You may grant me that
ultimate
privilege.
my hands could have kept stroking Your soft skin for hours, and my
tongue and
lips wanted to go on and on worshipping at Your "love-shrine", but at
last You
moved away. i'm a bit reluctant to make too many claims about my
performance but
-- in obedience to Your demand for ALL details -- i most humbly suggest
that i
was able to give You three climaxes. This is nothing to be proud of, i
know,
because a really competent slave should be able to keep a Mistress as
sensual as
You climaxing almost constantly. i can only beg for the opportunity of
learning
to do better!
i don't know if it was some kind of reward as well as another part of
the test,
but the last thing i remember was a few minutes of ecstasy as i was
given the
best blow-job of my life. i think i was bound face up on a sort of
bench, and
when i first felt lips and a tongue begin to nibble at my still rigid
cock, i
did think that maybe You were condescending to give me pleasure... me,
presumptuous and worthless slave applicant that i am!
Then Your voice spoke in my ears again without any pause in the
attention being
given to my cock: "Remember, number 8, both your Mistress' amusement
and your
own enjoyment can be increased if you hold off for a long time." It
must have
been an assistant of Yours, or another of Your slaves; and if Your
slaves or
even assistants have skill like that, my poor mind boggles at what Your
own
talents must be!
i fear i performed very poorly. i tried -- god, how i tried! -- but
that tongue
and those lips and tantalising teeth were far too clever for my self-
control.
Your decision has probably been made already -- and, i'm very afraid,
not in my
favour -- but may i dare to say in self-defence that it was the hours
of
excitement, of tight bondage and painful discipline, of titillation and
humiliation, that made me come so quickly; and the last straw was Your
master-
touch of the helmet, cutting me off from sight and sound and unable to
think of
anything but the rising arousal in my prick.
Please, Mistress, i BEG You -- if there still is any hope for me to
enter Your
service -- PLEASE give me a chance to learn skills like that. i'll
endure
anything -- all the humiliation, all the severe bondage, canings and
even
whippings that You find are necessary to train me -- and then i'll
dedicate what
i've learned to Your pleasure alone!!!
There's little more to describe of my test. i must have fainted or
fallen asleep
for a while, because i was suddenly aware of being in a taxi. The
driver -- i
guess she must be an assistant of Yours -- noticed i was awake, smiled
and said,
"You'd better get dressed, don't you think?" and i realized i was still
stark
naked! On the seat beside me was the bag in which i'd put my clothes,
so i
opened it and dressed quickly.
i wanted to ask the driver lots of questions, but she wasn't interested
at all
in talking, except to find out where i wanted to go. As You promised, i
arrived
home just before 2 a.m.
This letter has been as detailed as i can remember -- i beg Your
forgiveness if
i've forgotten anything important. To me, only one thing is important
now: i
want to be Your slave, to grovel at Your beautiful feet, to worship
Your lovely
body, to amuse You by being stripped and bound and whipped, and to be
trained to
serve You and humbly give You pleasure.
Hoping desperately that my wish will come true,
i remain
YOUR
slave applicant number 8.
P.O. Box 69, -------.
June 6th.
Slave applicant Number 8,
You have been accepted for service and training in my slave stables.
Some of your ideas are very foolish and stupid. Firstly, you assume
that I
personally spoke to you and handled you and allowed you to give me
pleasure
during your test. You idiot -- I don't often dirty my hands with
ordinary (that
is, TRAINED) slaves, far less with mere applicants like you. Besides, I
was too
busy supervising the testing of ten other applicants as well as you;
why do you
think you were given a number? I have assistants and senior slaves to
do the
work for me.
Secondly, the helmet you wore was not ONLY to keep your mind on your
test. Its
MAIN purpose was to protect the identities of myself, my assistants and
assisting slaves and -- most of all -- my clients, some of whom were
present to
watch and assist with the testing... in case I rejected your
application or you
yourself choose not to take up the offer I'm making in this letter.
Some of my
clients -- to whom I supply trained slaves, either on a temporary basis
where
they visit my premises, or permanently -- are very well-known people,
who
understandably do NOT want slaves or prospective slaves blabbing about
them.
If you still wish to enter my service for training in slavery, you must
choose
one of the following three options:
1. PART-TIME SLAVERY: after an initial period of intensive training
(you will
have to take at least two weeks leave from work), you will report to my
stables
at least one evening per week, plus one full weekend (that is, Friday
evening
until late Sunday night) per month. The date for each of your
attendances will
be given to you at the previous one and will NOT be negotiable; failure
to
report without a VERY good reason -- only a medical certificate is
completely
acceptable -- will make you liable for punishment at your next
attandance, if
there is one. Naturally, at any events where clients may be present,
you will be
helmeted, as you were during your test, but you will be allowed to see
your
fellow-slaves, my full-time assistants and (if you're lucky) maybe me,
too.
2. LIVE-IN SLAVERY: apart from your job and -- if you can convince me
of their
importance -- one or two other interests, you will spend ALL your time
in the
stables. Your training will therefore proceed more rapidly and will be
more
thorough, and this will of course provide the opportunity for you to
reach the
status of a fully-trained -- and perhaps favoured -- slave sooner. The
"helmet
rule" will still apply when clients are present, of course.
3. FULL-TIME SLAVERY: Quite literally, you will become my PROPERTY,
with no
rights of your own and no freedom at all except as I might allow. As
far as the
outside world is concerned, you will just disappear completely. You
will live
your whole life, 24 hours a day 365 days a year, in the stables; your
training
will be more intense and much more rapid, and you will therefore have a
much
better chance to achieve a high rank in my service, possibly even that
of senior
slave assistant. Full-time slaves are not required to be helmeted, even
when
clients are present... for the simple reason that you will NEVER be
able to tell
any tales about them outside the stables! Finally, if you respond well
to your
training, you may be sold or given to another Mistress or Master or one
of my
clients... at MY discretion.
You should note that, whichever choice you make at the beginning, you
will be
permitted to request a change between these forms of slavery at any
time... with
one IMPORTANT EXCEPTION: full-time slavery, once you have chosen that,
is
PERMANENT and CANNOT BE REVOKED -- for reasons which should be quite
obvious.
You will reply with your choice -- or, if you lack the courage to
become what
you say you want, your abject request to be excused -- within one week.
Make
your letter short and to the point; NO "negotiations" whatsoever will
be entered
into. Depending on your choice, you will then be contacted with further
orders.
Mistress Marvelle
P.O. Box 222, -------.
June 10th.
Most gracious Mistress Marvelle,
i will be honoured to be....
Your humble LIVE-IN...
slave applicant number 8.
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