Chapter One

 

 

Beth heard a low moan, but did not identify the source as herself. She was in one of the quiet times, a time of peace, where she hung unmoving, trying to breath, trying to inflate her lungs against the tightness squeezing down around her chest.

Then the buzzing began again, a soft electrical hum that she felt through every pore in her sweat soaked body. At first it was low and soothing, but it grew, and she began to feel a heat within her lower belly.

Little sparkles of sensation appeared here and there along her body, along her toes, her arms, her hip, but mainly along the surface of her breasts and between her tightly closed thighs.

It had been - a long time - since she had been able to see or hear, or make any noise, since she had been able to move her body, her legs, her arms, her hands.

There was terrible pressure on her arms and shoulders; the weight of her body, though she was not fully aware of it.

She was encased in leather, leather so tight her flesh groaned with the pressure squeezing against the soft skin. She could breath only in shallow puffs through the small tubes set into her nostrils, for the tightness of the leather around her chest was such that her very ribs ached.

The sides of her knees hurt from being jammed so firmly together, and cramps rippled through legs which had been locked straight and under tension for hours. She was hot, very, very hot, for the leather covered her from head to toe, but the heat which took what little awareness she still held was within her and not without.

The sparkles grew in power, and she could feel her nipples swelling as they tickled, then snapped at her breasts. There was a hardness within her belly, a hard warm, pulsing presence which set her bones to trembling. She could feel her vaginal muscles squeezing down around it repeatedly as it buzzed and hummed tirelessly.

Her muscles snapped and pulled, her body instinctively writhing, but without affect. Her arms were held too tightly above her head, her legs too tightly below her. Her joints ached from the pressure being exerted in both directions.

The sparkles became little shocks which made her gasp and moan, then greater shocks, jolts of electricity blasting into her breasts and arms and groin and toes. She cried out again and again, writhing within her small world, her muscles spasming, her body trembling.

She screamed soundlessly as the pain grew unbearable, then screamed again as a climax washed over her, the pleasure pouring through her nervous system, melding and swirling with the agony, becoming something that was both - and neither.

She couldn't think. Her mind bobbed and churned, bounced and twisted with the flow of sensations pouring through her, and when the sensations finally ebbed, the silent time come again, she slumped exhausted, numbed.

***

"So when are you gonna do it?" Sara asked with a suggestive leer.

Emily rolled her eyes and glared, and her girlfriend snickered lightly.

"Shhh. Someone'll hear."

"Oh like it's a big surprise," Sara said, sitting down next to her on the narrow bench.

The sailing trip had been billed as nothing more than a little vacation during the winter break from college. To parents, it was described as a chance to get troublesome young adults out from underfoot and let them learn a thing or two about the world. To the "young adults" it was a chance to relax and enjoy life, to see sunny climes at their parents' expense.

Ostensibly, the yachting trip would offer examples of marine biology, the flora and fauna of the ocean, and the ancient archeological ruins to be found along the coast of Africa.

The brochure had piously demanded conservative, one-piece bathing attire for the girls, and promised high standards of supervision and chaperoning so that the young people would not go astray. Only two of the girls had actually brought conservative suits, however, and the bored teachers seemed to care little about who wore what or who slept with whom.

Sara wore a flimsy white one piece with a thong back. The top bulge tightly across her ample chest, and her long legs went on forever before meeting the tiny strips of fabric which curled around them. Her long chestnut hair spilled across her shoulders in front, falling almost to the ample cleavage revealed by a large teardrop shaped hole in the front of her suit.

"I want it to be on deck, under the stars," Emily whispered. "But I don't want one of the crew to stumble on us."

Emily was an intellectual, and a dreamer. She wore her blonde hair short, clipped off stylishly just below the collar. Her white bikini was brief, the sides cut high along her slender hips, the small half cups of her bra showing a smooth swell of breast.

"I can keep watch and distract anyone who comes near."

"I don't want you watching either!"

"Don't be silly. Why should I want to watch? I'm not a bloody virgin, you are."

"Shhh!"

Being a virgin embarrassed Emily, especially among the girls on the yacht, where such a predicament was equated with ignorance and prudishness. It irritated her, for it wasn't like she was a prude. Not really. She'd simply been waiting for the right opportunity, to have sex in a truly romantic setting. At night, on a yacht, beneath the stars, struck her as very much the right setting.

Better still, since none of the others on the trip really knew her there was no chance for bad gossip to get back to her friends and family. The sense of freedom that brought was quite bracing.

"As if everyone doesn't know."

"Everyone doesn't know, and won't if you'll kindly be quiet."

"So? Gonna do it?"

"Tonight then."

"About time."

***

A short, but quite bulky African man in a black suit walked slowly down the winding, stone stairwell which led to what had once been a prison for murderers, hesitated at the bottom, then reached up and touched a switch. The area was immediately flooded with bright light from bare bulbs hanging from the roof.

He walked slowly into the room, his pace measured, and stopped to regard a strange leather object, something akin to a cocoon, which hung from the ceiling.

The centre of the cocoon was shaped like the body of a woman, with a faceless black head at its top, a woman with her arms above her and legs held quite tightly together.

The leather stretched together at its top, where it hung from a chain, and at its bottom, where another chain, the tension in it quite visible, pulled downwards to the floor.

The man walked up to the leather cocoon and regarded it for a long moment, as if thinking. He examined the zipper running from the back of the "head" down its front towards the "feet". He moved to a nearby pillar and flipped a switch, then returned to regard the cocoon. He reached up behind the head, gripped the zipper firmly, and slowly pulled it downwards along the length to the bottom.

Beneath were tight leather laces. He tugged them loose, and the cocoon began to split open. Pale, glistening white flesh appeared. He gripped the front and forced it open, peeling it slowly back from the head of a woman who seemed to stand unconscious within.

Her skin was soaked in sweat, hair matted against her scalp. She breathed slowly, head lolling back as he pulled the cocoon father open, baring more of her sweat soaked body, her flesh flushed with heat.

He moved to a nearby pillar and threw a switch. With a low grinding sound the hook holding the cocoon aloft began to descend. He moved to the woman and reached to the top of the cocoon, slipping the leather sack free of the hook, then gently letting it down on the ground.

He knelt beside it, peeling the leather back and open to more fully expose the woman laying there. She moaned weakly, eyes still closed, then let out a soft whimper of pain as he exposed her legs, bending them slightly. He carefully unbuckled the straps which bound them tightly together at ankle, knee and thigh, then eased her thighs apart, exposing her closely shaven mons.

He quite matter of factly spread the lips of her sex with blunt fingers, then pushed his fingers up to grip the base of a thick cylinder wedged within. He tugged it slowly down, noting without interest that the metal glistened as wetly as her body as inch after inch was exposed to the overhead light.

A full foot slid out of her tight depths. He set it aside, then moved to her top, again removing the remnants of the cocoon, then unstrapping her arms. The insides of the leather were covered in circular metal pads the size of small coins, and he could see the light impressions they had left all across her pale skin, especially where the leather had squeezed particularly tightly, such as her breasts, and the sides of her hips.

She groaned again, and her eyelids flickered slightly. Her body shifted slowly on the floor, one of her legs slowly twisting a few inches.

The man slipped his arms under the now nude body of the young woman and lifted her up across his shoulder as he got to his feet. She dangled limply, her head hanging down as he carried her across the room, then began to ascend the stairs.