GEETWO STORIES - PAGE 075
- DEAL OF THE DAY -
Art By Grigbertz
The restraint was machined to such fine tolerances that even with a close visual inspection, it was extremely difficult to see the hair-thin joints of the internal hinges and locking mechanisms. Such painstaking craftsmanship was both rare and expensive, reflecting the superb skills of the creator and fully deserving the services of an outstanding model to properly demonstrate the product of his talent and hard work. The girl was an excellent choice, her pretty face, blonde hair, enticingly-curvaceous body and soft, pale skin providing a delightful contrast to the gleaming steel confining her.
On learning that the job would involve nudity and bondage, she had pretended to be reluctant to take it on, only agreeing after negotiating double her usual fee and extracting the written promise of a 25% share of the gross profits made on any deal struck as a result of her demonstrations. It was a hard bargain and the locksmith was not happy about her hard-nosed attitude, but she would not reduce her demands and eventually, he had accepted her terms.
Barely bothering to conceal her satisfaction and scornful amusement at his capitulation, Zara stripped naked, totally unconcerned that he was watching with a glint of resentful anger in his eyes as he realised she had tricked him and her reluctance had been nothing more than a ploy. Not that she cared, for with the signed contract in her purse, she was confident there was nothing he could do.
Instructed to lie face-down and place her wrists behind her back, she complied willingly enough, allowing him to squeeze her elbows and forearms into the solid, one-piece tube of the arm-restraint, then bent her knees to bring her feet and legs up towards her buttocks. She couldn’t quite manage it on her own, but with his muscular and enthusiastic assistance, all four of her limbs were quickly secured in a rigid hogtie that immobilised her and forced her spine into a deep hollow.
The final piece of his restraint device was one she could well have done without, but the deal she had struck was for the entire ensemble, so with a long-suffering sigh and a soulful glance up at him from her big blue eyes, she let her soft lips part and allowed him to insert the steel gag and collar combination. Connected to her arm-restraint by a thick, heavy chain, it silenced her and kept her head arched, giving her no alternative but to look straight ahead.
Unable to move or speak and with no possibility of escape, Zara’s cheeks flushed red when the locksmith gazed boldly down at her naked, helplessly-restrained body, his lips curving into a beaming smile at the erotic contrast between her soft, pale flesh and the gleaming metal of his craftsmanship. She hadn’t really taken much notice of how powerfully-built he was and it came as a total shock to her when he grasped the chain linking her restraints in his right hand and simply lifted her off the floor, her spine curving even more deeply and the gag wedging still tighter between her lips as he carried her out of the room.
Ignoring her muffled, wordless squeals and attempts to protest, he took her out into the main exhibition hall and over to his stand, her humiliation intensifying as numerous other exhibitors, attracted by her squeals and the sight of a naked, hogtied girl being carried like a suitcase, turned to watch and make bawdy comments. Placed belly-down on a rug at the centre of his stand, Zara had no choice but to endure the jokes and hot-eyed stares of the numerous men who seemed to find a reason to pass by, most of them clearly amused by her plight and the stream of drool that oozed from her gagged lips to pool under her raised chin ... and none missing the opportunity to ogle her helplessly-displayed body.
It would have been less embarrassing if her nipples hadn’t become so hard and her sex so wet, but though she tried her best not to give in to the eroticism of being in strict bondage and incapable of concealing her exposed body, the knowledge that so many men wanted her and were only held back from seizing and taking her by the presence of the locksmith, was as exciting and arousing as it was alarming.
As a model, she was well used to being watched and admired and in the privacy of the bedroom, had even allowed a former boyfriend to tie her up with scarves, but this was her first experience of genuine, serious bondage and the difference was huge. This was no game between lovers and Zara knew she was at the mercy of every man in the hall, totally dependent on the locksmith for protection. Thank goodness she had had the foresight to insist on a cast-iron, written contract, so that he was committed to looking after his investment and her, otherwise she might have been in a lot of trouble. The exhibition had gone very well and although Zara hadn’t been able to keep an accurate count, she was certain that the locksmith had sold a lot of his restraint devices and must be very pleased. Largely due to her modelling, of course, because just about every visitor to the show must have come to his stand to have a look at her in her stringent, naked bondage and quite a lot of them had bought something.
For the first few customers, she had wanted the floor to open up and swallow her as she was subjected to the indignity of a detailed inspection of the way she was hogtied, accompanied by the locksmith’s explanation of the finer points of his device and workmanship. He didn’t seem to mind that they were far more interested in her breasts and buttocks than in his words and she could hardly object or point out the fact that they were obviously only window-shopping. As the show progressed, though and a steady stream of visitors stopped by, she had no choice but to accept that her body was going to be on show to whichever strangers cared to look and she was gradually able to relax and even begin to enjoy the situation.
After all, she was the centre of attention, the focus of all eyes and no doubt the object of dozens of male erotic fantasies ... and she was making money from every one of them who purchased a restraint. The slowly-growing aching of her immobilised limbs and jaw was the only relatively-minor problem and when she tried to ease her stiffness by jerking and twisting in her bonds, the resulting jiggling of her breasts and flexing of her torso merely drew even more customers to enjoy her efforts. It wasn’t the outcome she intended, but when she realised that her wriggling was attracting an even larger, mostly-male audience, she found that she rather liked it and began to play-up to them, writhing and twisting as if she was really trying to escape and giving little muffled squeals through her gag.
The crowd loved her performance and she was delighted to note that sales increased markedly as she pretended to struggle to free herself, but it was hard work, and she couldn’t maintain her efforts for very long. Not that it mattered, because the show was almost over and as the watchers gradually drifted away towards the exits, Zara was relieved that her assignment was almost completed and she would soon be released to stretch her limbs. At least, that was what Zara assumed would happen, but half an hour later, with the hall virtually deserted, she was still securely bound and gagged.
As soon as the doors closed behind the last visitors, she had expected to be freed immediately, but managed to wait patiently while the locksmith tidied up the stand and packed away his remaining stock. When he still didn’t release her after that, she began to protest and complain through her gag, jerking at her bonds to indicate her displeasure. To her dismay, he ignored her completely and she was reduced to glaring at him in futile anger and frustration, thinking that he was probably just paying her back for negotiating such a tough bargain for her services as his model. She considered it was a pretty childish way to try to even the score, but with 25% of his sales profits going to her, she didn’t really care all that much and could afford to let him have his petty revenge.
Her conclusion that his actions were nothing to be particularly concerned about, underwent a dramatic re-evaluation when three men she had never seen before entered the hall through the back door and made their way to the stand. The locksmith must have been expecting them and after a brief greeting and handshakes all round, led them over to where Zara lay and invited them to test for themselves the quality of merchandise he offered.
Annoyed that he had arranged some sort of private viewing for the trio without telling her, she decided not to cooperate, refusing to even look at the men as they stood over her, then squatted down to inspect her body and restraints even more closely. Her face flushed vivid crimson as one remarked that her breasts were excellent, then gasped as a second added that once her nipples had been pierced, they would be easily capable of taking large-gauge rings. She couldn’t believe her ears, but as the third man chuckled that she would look even better with a nice big ring through her nose as well, her eyes bulged in appalled recognition that they were not joking.
Confused and horrified, not knowing what was going on, Zara squealed shrilly as the locksmith calmly agreed that piercings and rings not only added to the allure of a slave, but also made extremely effective anchorages for bondage restraints and convenient securing points for attaching leashes or tethers. A full set of which he would be most happy to provide free of charge should one of them decide to purchase and enslave her. The revelation that he planned to sell her as a slave was so utterly, shockingly unthinkable, that Zara’s mind simply would not accept that it was true.
Paralysed with shock, she gaped dumbly up at the locksmith when he urged the men to satisfy themselves that she had the potential to be a hot, responsive slave for them, then screamed into her gag and wrenched madly at her fettered limbs as they accepted his invitation. Strong male hands captured her breasts, fingers rolling and squeezing her sensitive nipples, others prised her thighs apart to delve into the moist, slippery depths of her sex, yet more stroked, prodded, pinched and even slapped her buttocks and thighs to check the resilience of her flesh, roaming over every inch of her body despite her frantic attempts to evade their touch and resist the unwanted sexual arousal it sent storming through her belly.
For endless minutes, Zara fought not to surrender to the frighteningly-powerful sensations imposed on her, but it was a battle she couldn’t win and as her body and its responses slipped from her control, she began to writhe and undulate helplessly against the hands that explored and dominated her with such exquisitely ruthless authority and callous disregard of her rights and wishes.
Deep in her belly, a gigantic orgasm swirled and seethed, demanding a release that she could not supply and as her need overwhelmed her, Zara begged for mercy and pleaded to be allowed to come, her words lost behind her gag, but her eyes filled with unmistakable longing and the humiliating knowledge of her subjugation by three complete strangers. Desperately wanting to climax, she moaned in loss and frustration when the hands were taken from her body, the men cruelly amused by her misery as they agreed with the locksmith that she had most definitely shown herself to have the potential to become a highly satisfactory slave. The only question was the price he was asking for her.
Zara was stunned when the locksmith named an astronomical figure, more than she could earn in ten years of modelling, but as he pointed out to the men that the money would buy her services as a sex-slave for the rest of her life, she shuddered in anguish, visualising the years of captive servitude that would be her fate if she was sold to one of them. Her heart leapt when all three queried the price he asked, her hopes zooming higher as he replied that he would consider an offer, but only if it was close to his original figure.
She didn’t think any of them would possibly be willing to pay so much ... and for a few moments, it seemed that she was right. Until the trio conferred together, then came back with an offer that brought a smile to the locksmith’s face and sent an icy chill of horror racing through her body and mind. Each of them would pay one-third of her sale price and they would share her services between them.
The locksmith was a slave-trader and as she remembered how she had congratulated herself on besting him and securing what had seemed like an excellent deal to model for him, she groaned in misery, knowing that he had fooled her completely and used her own greed and arrogance to lure her into his clutches. She had been so sure of herself, so certain that he was weak, so blinded by her own cleverness ... and now she was a chained, helpless slave. There was no escape and with a shudder, Zara lowered her eyes in submission and despairing acceptance of her unavoidable fate, her belly swirling with unwanted heat that she feared would only intensify as she was trained to serve her owners and provide them with whatever pleasures they would demand from her fettered body.
She knew she would be given no choice but to serve them perfectly and when the locksmith stood up and watched her buyers seize the chain hogtying her, Zara’s blue eyes filled with tears as she was lifted and carried from the stage into life-long slavery, her last sight of the man who had condemned her to endless obedience, subjugation and sexual servitude, the wide, self-satisfied smile of a businessman who had successfully concluded a highly-profitable deal ...