Cathy emerged from the bathroom, her head wrapped in the towel she had used to dry off her hair. She, otherwise completely naked, walked into her bedroom, water still dripping from her freshly showered body. Pulling the towel off her head, she jumped back a step, astonished by the sight of a man sitting on her bed, facing the doorway. He was wearing a balaclava helmet that covered his whole head except for his eyes, but she could not see even these because he had a black stocking over his head under the helmet. His body was completely covered in a boiler suit, with rubber gloves on his hands and wellington boots on his feet. In his right hand was a wicked-looking knife.
"Who ... how ...," stuttered Cathy, trembling with fear.
"You won't remember me, but I was at the pub with my mate a while ago," said the intruder smoothly. "I heard you sounding off about how you're a wonderful escape artist who could escape anything and you're going to be a sensation soon. He thought you weren't any good and would only succeed 'cause you're a sexpot in scanty outfits, but I said you must be really good. So I thought I'd test you out to see if you could escape when I tie you up."
Cathy was still terrified, but recovered enough presence of mind to wrap her towel tightly round her body. She clutched it so tightly that her knuckles went white. "But ... but ..."
"How did I know your address and how did I get in? Simple. I looked in your handbag where you had your address and key, and I took an impression of the key in plasticine. Beautiful young ladies like yourself should really be more careful. Next time, something nasty might happen to you," laughed the man. "I don't know your name, but it scarcely matters. Now let me explain what will happen. I shall tie you up thoroughly, then leave you for a few hours. If you're free by the time I return, I've lost and you get to keep the stuff I'll use to tie you up. If not, I've won and will take whatever of value I can find in the flat. Then of course I'll let someone know you need help. But you're far too good at your game to lose, aren't you?"
Cathy was beginning to calm down. Of course she'd escape whatever this buffoon could throw at her. With any luck, he'd then leave and that would be it.
"Now, just put down that towel and let's start," he said, waving the knife threateningly. Cathy debated whether to attack him, but his muscular frame dwarfed her slender body and he did have that vicious knife. Discretion was the better part of valour.
"OK, do your best - or your worst," said Cathy confidently, standing erect, not caring that this burglar could see her pert breasts and trim physique which, if she was honest with herself, had indeed contributed to people's interest in her act. She could not tell how, behind his mask, he was reacting to it. He reached down, never letting his eyes leave her body, and picked up a bag from which he extracted a bundle of leather straps.
"Now, you just be a good little girl and I won't have to hurt you," he said, waving the knife again. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back, palms together."
She did as she said and felt a leather strap being buckled around her wrists, followed by another at her elbows, drawing them uncomfortably close together as he tightened the strap. Next, he made her open her clenched palms and put leather bags over her hands. They were so tight and stiff that she could scarcely bend her fingers. He fastened them on with buckled straps at the wrist, then proceeded to strap her immobilised hands together as well. She wiggled her arms a bit, testing her restraints. She was satisfied that she could easily escape until she heard the clicks of three tiny padlocks on the buckles. As she realised that they were locking straps and that her task had just got far more difficult, she began to worry, but calmed herself before she could panic.
With her back still turned to him, Cathy heard the man remove something else from his bag. She tried to turn to see what else he had brought, but was stopped by his gloved hands placed on either side of her face, forcing her to remain facing forward.
"Now don't spoil the fun, my little sweetie," he said. "Just keep your back to me and don't turn around. You seeing too much would give you an unfair advantage and we certainly don't want that."
She heard the sounds of leather and metal and wondered if he had a straitjacket. Well, if so, she had escaped from a few of those already in her short career. Suddenly, she felt something being put over her hands and pulled up her bound arms. She could feel the tightness of the thick leather as he worked the device all the way to her upper arms. She squirmed a bit as the material forced her elbows even closer together. "Wow, what is this thing?"
"It's called an 'armbinder', I saw it and knew I had to get it for you," he answered as he began to lace up the corset-like middle of the binder. Each pull of the leather thong laces drew the girl's arms tighter, until, with a grunt, he knotted the laces at the top, forcing her elbows to touch. "You're very flexible, which is just as well or this might be awfully uncomfortable."
"Uh huh, " was all Cathy could say as she gritted her teeth against the cramping sensation in her arms, not wanting this stranger to think she couldn't cope.
The man then pulled an attached leather flap over the laces and zipped it up, completely covering them. He snapped another padlock onto the zipper at the top of the armbinder, cutting off all access to the laces. He continued buckling and padlocking other straps that dangled strategically from the restraining device. One was fastened tightly around her waist, pinning her arms to her back. Another set came around from the top, crossed over her shoulders, and were secured around her chest, just below her breasts, like a harness; they would make it impossible to slip the armbinder off. "Well, that looks pretty secure, babe, but I know you're good, so I'm going to make sure it's perfect."
Cathy could feel another leather strap dangling from the bottom of the binder and swinging near her bottom. She wondered if it was some kind of crotch strap, like the ones most straitjackets had that stopped the wearer lifting it over their head. However, he seemed to be ignoring it and instead attached three more straps around her arms through loops on the outside of the binder. These were also buckled tight and padlocked in the same locations as the straps under the binder. He took extra care to pull the wrist strap as tight as he could, so as to isolate her hands as much as possible within the leather single sleeve.
"There, your arms are all done. How does it feel?"
She squirmed a bit, testing her bonds. "My arms are starting to cramp a bit," she conceded. "This thing is intense."
He watched her squirm, happy with the results so far. "It sure is, but we're not done yet." He went over to the bag again and got a stiff leather posture collar. He quickly encircled her neck with the collar, even as she attempted to back away, and pulled it tight.
"Please, no, I don't usually work with things around my neck," she said in a worried tone as he buckled the collar in place. "Please ..."
She was cut off by the snap of yet another padlock. The now locked-on collar was higher at the front than the back and forced the girl to keep her head held straight up. Unprepared for this new sensation, Cathy began to feel a bit panicked. She didn't like the claustrophobic feeling that the collar was giving her.
"Poor little baby," he said condescendingly. "Frightened of a little collar. But you're just going to have to get used to it." With that, he ran yet another strap from the top of the binder to the back of the collar. Pulling it taut and locking it, he ensured there would be a moderate amount of pressure on the girl's throat - pressure that would increase as she squirmed to get free.
"Please, this could be dangerous. Just take off the collar." She pleaded with him, but he said nothing. He went and retrieved yet another item from his seemingly inexhaustible bag of goodies.
"Now, now, you're the great escape artist; I'm sure you can get the collar off yourself easily enough," he replied in honeyed tones. "Anyway, I see no need to discuss anything else. Would you mind opening your mouth."
She looked at the thing he was carrying. It was a large red rubber ball attached to the inside of yet another leather strap. She knew that he meant to shove that ball into her mouth, and took a step back defensively.
"But ... mmmphhh!"
Despite his strength, he struggled to force the huge ball into her mouth, holding the gag in one hand and using the other hand to hold her head still. He had to push hard until it finally popped in, stretching her jaw to the limit. Buckling and locking it on, and fastening a strap thet went tightly under her chin to stop it moving, were easy in comparison to the insertion. When he was finished, the man calmly pushed the trussed-up girl down onto her bed.
"That's better. Now I can finish tying you up in peace. I do have to get to work at some point today, so I have to hurry." Turning her over so that she was on her knees, face down on the mattress, he pulled the strap still dangling from under her hands down through her crotch.
Suddenly, the girl felt two objects on the inside of the strap touch her most intimate openings. There was a sudden sharp pain, followed by two objects sliding deep inside her. Shock kept her from squirming as the rest of the strap was pulled through and embedded deep in her crack.
The man was proud of how quickly he had managed to insert the dildo and butt plug into Cathy. She hadn't expecting them and smearing lots of lubricant on them had obviously been the right decision. Now he turned her onto her back, threaded the end through the front of her waist belt, and pulled it tight, forcing the long plugs deeper into her. A padlock larger than any he had already used completed this portion of his restraint.
Wondering if she was squirming from her restraints or the plugs embedded deep inside her, the man retrieved yet another bundle of leather from the bag. In minutes he had the legbinder pulled completely up Cathy's legs. Working exactly like the armbinder, this device laced up from her ankles to the top of her thighs, pinning her legs tightly together. He followed the lacing with the zippered flap, straps at the ankles, calves, knees, and thighs, and locks at all connecting points. More straps from the top were linked to the tight strap round Cathy's waist, ensuring that she could never wriggle it off.
There was a strap attached to the tip of the legbinder, and the man quickly pulled it down to the footboard and locked it off there, ensuring her legs would remain immobile. The tension on this strap pulled the girl's bound feet into a severe pointed position, like a ballerina on tiptoe.
Taking only a few seconds to admire the sight of the naked, tightly trussed girl, the man continued his task. With Cathy immobile on the bed, he quickly attached a length of chain to the back of her collar with yet another padlock. Bringing the other end of the chain up to the headboard, he looped it around the central metal rung and locked it tight with another padlock. Satisfied with the lack of movement the short chain would provide, the man stood up and looked her over one more time. She squirmed in the momentary silence, glaring at him in an attempt to convey her discomfort. She was restrained more effectively than she had ever been and honestly had no idea if she could free herself. Every movement put pressure on her throat and caused the plugs he had shoved into her to move around inside her. She grunted unintelligibly into her gag, hoping he would release her.
Instead, he rummaged in his bag once more. He pulled out another leather item and, walking back to the bed, roughly pulled the hood over Cathy's head. He lined up the only openings in the black headgear so that they were under her nostrils, and then lifted up her head and proceeded to lace up the back of the hood. He pulled the laces tight until her head felt as if it was in a vice. When he was satisfied, he tied the laces in a knot. An attached leather flap went over the laces. He zipped it up and snapped another padlock onto the zipper.
"Just to make sure you can't see what you're doing. We don't want you to have it too easy, do we?" Only a barely audible groan made it through the gag and thick leather hood. He moved Cathy's bed phone from the side of the bed to across the room where she'd never be able to reach it.
Suddenly, Cathy flinched as she was taken by surprise by a sharp pain in her left nipple. The man had put a vicious toothed clip on it. She flinched again as a similar one went on her other nipple. He fastened some thin cord to the left-hand bedpost at the head of the bed, ran it through holes in the clips to the right-hand bedpost at the foot of the bed, pulling it taut before he fastened it. He then ran a second cord between the other pair of bedposts and through the clips.
"I've got to get to work now, and so do you. Just so you know, all the keys are going with me." Gathering his things, he glanced back at her frantically struggling form, stretched taut between the head and foot boards of her own bed.
Cathy heard the click of the light switch and the shutting of the door, and she knew she was now alone. She ground her jaw around the gag, trying to lessen the distraction caused by the pain from her mouth being held open by the huge ball. Unable to compress it, she gave up and tried to ignore the ache, preferring to concentrate on getting free.
Time passed. By now, Cathy was in a panic. She had no idea how many hours had elapsed during her futile attempts to free herself. Every technique she knew failed miserably. Neither her flexibility, nor her ability to dislocate her shoulders, had proven sufficient to get her out of the armbinder. The multitude of straps served to hold her limbs so tightly together that there wasn't enough movement to gain any leverage. All she had succeeded in doing was working up a sweat. Every part of her body ached, forcing her to take numerous rest periods, all for unknown lengths of time. Her arms and stringently pointed feet cramped from being in unnatural positions, her jaw continued to feel as though it were dislocated, and she suffered from never before experienced bouts of claustrophobia, resulting from the hood covering her face and the tight stiff collar around her neck. Every time she moved, the clamps on her nipples, held by the taut cord, pulled painfully.
She jumped as much as her restraints would allow when she heard the phone ring. She tried to calm down and focus on the message as the answering machine picked up. "Hi," her greeting said, "this is Cathy. I can't get to the phone right now because I'm probably all tied up, so just leave a message, and I'll call you back"
"Hi babe, it's me." The man's voice came through the machine. "It's been three hours and I guess since you're not answering that you freed yourself, got bored and went out for the rest of the day. I just wanted to let you know that I had faith in your ability. Well, maybe I'll see you later."
Time passed in agonising waves, as Cathy lay there still fully restrained. She barely heard the phone as another message was left. "Hi babe, it's me again. I guess you found something to occupy your time today since you're still not home. That's good. I just wanted to let you know that I'm about ready to get off work now and since you're not around, I'm going to head out for drinks with a few of the guys. I will stop by your place later tonight. But don't wait up. It is Friday night, and I don't have work in the morning so I may be over pretty late. Don't worry, I'll let myself in."
Cathy screamed into her gag, knowing that she would never be able to escape until her tormentor returned to release her. Lying there helpless and immobile, her unbearable need for release overwhelmed everything else.
Finally, she heard the door open and the light go on. Rubber-gloved hands squeezed her tortured breasts. "See, I told you she was no good" came a voice.
"You disappoint me, babe," came the voice of her tormentor. "But my mate is pleased. And if the truth be told, so am I."
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