Asi and Milana were fixtures in the local community, [1] and everyone wanted to be close to them. I was no exception. So when it became known that they were looking to take on a new submissive, I jumped at the chance to be considered. I’d been playing with a few Doms off and on, but no one who could really give me what I wanted. The events of two years ago when Milana became Asi’s were legendary. It was clear that Asi was a special sort of Dom, and that both excited and scared me. Were those fears justified? You’ll have to judge for yourself.
“Be there at precisely 3:05 pm,” Milana had told me. “If you’re not on time, then you’re out.”
I wasn’t sure if I could be early, or just how narrow the window would be, so I was very careful. I set my watch from http://www.time.gov — you couldn’t get more official than that — and had Lisa drop me near the house just a few minutes early. I lingered just up the street until my watch said I had one minute to go, then walked up to the door just fifteen seconds early. I planned to knock at exactly 3:05. I stood, hand poised to rap and looked down at my watch as the seconds ticked by.
“Oh, it’s you, D’Or!” a familiar voice said. I turned and there was Odette. She was sitting, out of sight from the walk, on a bench on the porch. She looked miserable, sad, and agitated. “I was only a few minutes late. I knocked, but no one answered. I’ve been waiting since 9:00 this morning.”
Before I could even begin to formulate a reply, the door opened behind me. I turned and there was Milana. Tall, dark and imposing. While she’d started out as Asi’s submissive, the word now was that she’d become switchy bordering on a full-fledged Domme. “D’Or, welcome. Come inside,” she said.
Odette, quick as a cat, jumped in front of me. “Please, Milana. I was only a few minutes late. Can’t I come in, too?”
“No, Odette. While we appreciate that you’ve waited since most of the day, if you can’t even follow the simple instruction to arrive on time, then Asi and I want nothing to do with you. Now, please stand aside.” Odette looked crushed, but she moved aside. I passed through the door, and Milana closed it between us and the crestfallen sub.
Milana stepped past me and stood in the archway into the living-room with one hand on each side. The entryway was rather dim and the bright light behind her shadowed her face but drew a bright outline around her stunning figure. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, white button-down shirt, skin-tight black pants, and knee-high boots with just a little heel; she was already tall, so she didn’t need much to seem imposing. She wore an ornate metal collar around her throat. It was hard to decide if it was a fetish declaration or just a piece of unusual jewelry.
She looked at me and, from the way she looked at me, I knew. She’s a Domme now. Or at least, she’s a Domme to me. I was trying to decide what she wanted me to do. Should I kneel? That just didn’t seem right, so I just stood looking back at her, waiting for her to make the first move.
“Good,” she said at last and then smiled at me. “Asi doesn’t like doormats.”
“What about you?” It slipped out before I could think the better of it. There was something about her that made me a little bit stupid. I could happily kneel at her feet, and lick … There was a tingle between my legs and my brain was turning off more than it already had, so I set those thoughts aside before I did something really stupid.
“I guess you’re going to find out,” she said, laughing out loud. She stared at me for a moment more, then said, “Strip. There’s a bag on the table by the door. Put all your things inside and write your name on it, then bring it to me in the kitchen.” Without another word, she turned and walked out.
Some people, maybe most people, might have had second thoughts at this point. I was not one of them. I knew now, more than ever, that I wanted this: to be Asi and Milana’s. My high-heels went into the bag first, then the fishnets. I stripped the little black dress off over my head, folded it and placed it on top of the shoes and hose. I added my garter-belt, bra, and panties to the bag. I penned my loopy D’Or on the front and went looking for the kitchen. It wasn’t hard to find. I just followed the clink and clatter of cutlery and china toward the smell of coffee and pastries.
Asi was raising his coffee mug to his lips as I entered the room. He paused, and I think I saw his eyes light up. Then he smiled. Time restarted itself, and I realized that I’d had a deer-in-the-headlights moment. Milana sat next to Asi, calm, relaxed, and self-assured. She was clearly enjoying herself.
After that, most of the hoops they had me jump through were the standard things you’d expect. I was actually a little bit disappointed by it all. It was only much later that I finally got that it was all intended to lull me into a false sense of security. To make me think that I understood what was going on. After Asi and Milana fucked with me for about ninety minutes, Asi handed me a sheet of paper. “Go into the next room, and follow these instructions,” he said.
When I first saw the apparatus, several things became clear, but the complete gravity of it all only became obvious later.
First, I understood why I’d been sent to Imàge le Femme to have my measurements taken. This thing was custom built for someone exactly my size, and that set of extremely detailed measurements would have been required for the task.
Second, even without understanding it completely, I knew that the mind that conceived it was pure evil. Was that Asi? I wondered. Or maybe Milana? Or, possibly, both of them together? This was like something from the minds that brought us the Inquisition. Actually, lots of our modern day toys were, just not used, or capable of being used, in those extreme and even deadly ways. I’d been stretched on a rack before, but not so hard that anything got dislocated. Even Shibari descended from Japanese torture practices that could be lethal. This thing looked like something from the mind of a movie serial killer, like those Saw movies, except it didn’t look deadly, just complicated and intricate.
Finally, it was clear that someone had talked. There weren’t that many people who knew about my hard-limit with respect to total immobilization. Obviously, I’d been bound before, and by experts, but even then there was some wiggle room. I mean, literally, you could wiggle a bit, and that always made me feel safe somehow. Mummification was as close as you could get to being totally immobilized, but it was boring. The position didn’t offer much in the way of possibilities. You could put some vibrating or E-stim inserts in or pads on before, but even then it was pretty limited. Even mummified you could wiggle fingers and toes, face muscles, press your arms into your sides or legs together, or wiggle in various other ways. It was obvious that this mechanism was designed to reduce that to the bare minimum. It turned out I was wrong about that last part.
The instructions said: Put one foot in a boot, then the opposite hand in the glove, then reverse and put in the other hand, and last the remaining foot. Failure to follow the procedure exactly could lead to injury. I couldn’t see how, but there was a lot about this device that I didn’t understand. For example, there was a bit that looked like a face cradle, and another bit that looked like it would do interesting things with inserts between the legs, but neither one looked like it was in the right place. I looked closer, and then I understood that the whole thing was going to go into motion at some point, but what my final posture would be when it was done moving was unclear. Or, perhaps there wasn’t a final posture. Maybe the thing would continue to move, but I knew that was a false hope. This thing was going to come to rest with me in a completely helpless and immobile position. I wouldn’t be able to pull my feet and hands back out; the boots and gloves were clam-shells and it was obvious that they’d close up. It wasn’t at all obvious how you’d get someone back out of the thing once they were in. It couldn’t be permanent, could it? I worried.
I backed away from the thing. Asi and Milana were pushing my buttons. It’s what they were infamous for doing. They got into your head and took pleasure by fucking with it. I became aware of my heart pounding and the tightness in my chest and stomach. I was scared. Can I do this? I wondered. The worst part was that they weren’t going to put me into this torture engine. They expected, no demanded, that I do it to myself. Like everything else, it was do this or get out. There was no room for compromise.
Fuck it! I thought and slipped my right foot between the clam-shell of the boot. My toes jammed up at the end before the heel could settle into place. I wiggled my toes and the soft lubricated silicone slithered between my toes and spread them, then my heel slipped into place. The shell closed with a soft snap, and the whole mechanism gave off a metallic clunk as some mechanical interlock was engaged. Panic was at war with curiosity inside my head. This thing was totally terrifying and, at the same time, I had to know what it was going to do to me. I stood up in the boot and grabbed a crossbar that looked like it was there to help the subject — or was that crazy, fucking idiot? — steady herself while mounting the thing. I leaned forward, slipped my left hand into the glove, and as I pushed my fingers in, the experience was similar to that of my right foot. Slick silicone spread the fingers as the clam-shell closed around my wrist, and there was another clunk. My right hand engaged the other glove, and now my position was almost like superman in a steep climb, expect for my still free left foot. I looked down, lined up my foot, and wiggled it into the boot.
I was acutely aware of what happened next. There was the final expected clunk of the last interlock, but then I heard tick … tick … tick, like the ticking of a bomb, and for a moment I really believed I was about to be killed by an explosion. The irrationality of that thought was startling. The ticking stopped unexpectedly, and I could feel the mechanism begin to shift as it teetered on the border between states. With a final clunk, I began to tip forward like I was going to fall face-first into the machine while my hands and feet became free to move; not just anywhere I wanted, but only in a certain way. My hands wanted to open outward and down toward my sides, and my feet wanted to open outward and move upward forcing a bend in the knees. All the while it moved, there was a ratcheting sound. I could stop the movement, but it took a fair amount of strength to hold myself there, and I couldn’t reverse it. Then I thought, Just how crazy is Asi, anyway? All dominants are a little insane, and the more intense they were, the more insane, generally speaking. Asi was one of the most intense, but, paradoxically, he seemed like one of the most stable, too. Could this thing really be like something out of Saw? I looked, but didn’t see anything threatening. No sharp points, or edges; just the face cradle coming up, some wide straps that would support my chest, some pads where my knees would rest, and that little saddle that looked like it would fit perfectly between my legs with its two silicone invaders, one long and fat and the other short and slender. It actually looked like the position I was heading toward was going to be more comfortable than the one I was currently in, even if it was a lot more exposed.
Then I saw some things I didn’t like. Behind the face cradle was a dark hemisphere. I remembered seeing another one up above. There was a notch at the base that was just the size of my throat. My head was going to be completely enclosed. There was another little bit of silicone in there that looked like it was going into my mouth. When that happened, how was I supposed to red-light this scene if I couldn’t talk anymore? Gestures were out, since my hands were completely out of play.
Then there were the wires that ran everywhere, some in places that were hard to see with colors that matched the background. Some of them could power vibrators, but the rest would be E-stim. That’s a lot of E-stim, I worried.
My arms and legs began to shake with the exertion of holding myself in place. Every time they moved in the direction the machine allowed, there was a little click of a ratchet, and then they wouldn’t go back to where they were before. It was a one-way trip, going down. I almost called a stop to it right then, but I’d be giving up, and I just couldn’t do it. I knew this was what Asi both wanted and was counting on; that I’d be too curious to surrender.
I relaxed and let go. I expected the mechanism to finish quickly. I wanted it to finish quickly, before I could change my mind, but apparently it was designed not to move above a fixed speed. It was probably a safety feature. Eventually, my face settled into the cradle, the short, silicone projection between my teeth and the black hemisphere closed around the back of my head. There were a few more clicks and ticks as things settled into their final position.
Then I felt a hand on my ass and fingers spreading my labia. Evidently, they didn’t trust the mechanism to get the inserts in automatically. I tried to guess if the hand was Asi’s or Milana’s. Asi was a tall muscular man, but his fingers were rather slender for someone so big. Milana was tall for a woman and so her hands were proportionately large. It was impossible to tell, so I imagined first one and then the other, then decided it didn’t matter. Whoever it was got the fat one in my cunt, and then spread my cheeks and inserted the slender one in my ass.
I’d lubricated myself as instructed, and I was wet with the juices of my own excitement. Even so, as the large dildo began to slowly advance, I felt a warm slickness, bordering on too hot, inside me, like hot copious come, that oozed and dribbled out around the shaft. Its volume couldn’t be explained, except by the idea that I’d been injected with yet more lube by the mechanism. Then the small one advanced with a similar result.
“Bite down on the gag to end the scene, D’Or,” Asi voice spoke in my ears. “You will have the opportunity to do so periodically, but only between tunes. Now is your first chance.” He stopped speaking. Again I could feel my heart hammering and my pulses throbbing in my neck. Quit now? I asked myself. Suddenly, the gag in my mouth ballooned up, forcing my teeth apart and giving me no opportunity to bite; I’d waited too long. Music started softly, and I could feel the vibrations and E-stim pulses throbbing to the beat. I recognized the mandolin beginning of the song and got very scared. The song was Becoming Insane[2] and I knew that it was a long song with an intense driving beat. As the music built up, so did the magnitude of the pulses and vibrations; then the dildos began to move slowly picking up speed. Oh god, I thought, this really is going to drive me insane!
After an eternity, the mandolin ending began to play and I was so close but I hadn’t gotten there yet. The gag deflated and I had no intension of biting down on it. The seconds ticked by, and the panic of being so trapped began to return. Not only couldn’t I see, speak, or move, I could barely feel my body anymore. It was as if all my nerves were overloaded. Just at the point where I couldn’t take it anymore, and was about to end the scene, the gag inflated. Strangely, I was flooded with a sense of relief that the decision was once again out of my hands. Another song started playing. It was one I was not familiar with, but it sounded similar enough to be by the same group. The rather tame piano beginning was replaced by a vocal intro that jumped into a pounding beat worse, or perhaps better?, than Becoming Insane. The music drove me right over the edge, but it didn’t stop. It just kept right on coming and so did I.
I found myself floating in the dark, helpless, and … immobilized. The E-stim, vibration, and fucking machines had stopped. No, not stopped, but rather eased down so slowly that I hadn’t noticed, until they’d stopped altogether. Panic began to creep up, ready to pounce. Then I felt an arm around my waist. Dimly, I felt the gloves and boots detach from the machine, and I was lifted out with the sphere still around my head. I raised my useless hand to my head, and felt nothing, though I heard a dull thump.
“What do you say, Asi, should we let her out?” Milana said.
“No, never, let’s keep her like this forever,” he replied.
I thrashed in a full-on panic attack, but the sphere split and my head came free. In the dim light I saw Asi and Milana smiling down at me. “You’re in,” Asi said as they began to remove the gloves and boots.
We’re all trapped; penned in by who we are. You can either rail against it, rattle the bars of the cage, and growl like an animal. Or, you can settle in, relax, and enjoy it.