My Hen Night- Part 2

By Mel

I was too stunned to react as my little bedroom rapidly filled up with a heaving mass of girls, all dressed in minis, knee boots and tight tops as Fi had insisted.

"Here's the blushing bride," said Helen, shouting to be heard over the chatter. Blushing indeed, as I felt so embarrassed at all the girls seeing me in my tight corset with my breasts pushed right up and my thong pulled well in between my rear cheeks.

"She's gorgeous," agreed Katie, giving my bottom an affectionate rub. Several of the girls followed suit.

There were secveral girls between me and the door, so no chance of escape. Anyway, in my crippling high heels I could scarcely move very fast. "What's going on?" I gasped.

"Old hen night custom," explained Fi. "We take the bride out to the middle of the forest and tie her to a tree. Don't worry, you won't catch cold. It's a very warm night tonight."

My mind reeled. It was outrageous that my best friends - people I'd known since we were children - could do such a thing to me. And the thing that most worried me was that my beautiful white satin corset would get dirty and my silk stockings laddered. I remembered how pleased Fi was that I had bought three pairs of stockings. She must have realised that one pair would be damaged.

What could I do? I opened my mouth and screamed. "Help, help," I yelled. Then I realised I was just wasting my time. There was nobody upstairs, and if a faint echo of my voice went through the solid Victorian walls and across the large gardens to the neighbouring houses they would just assume it was the normal party noise.

The girls also knew that my yelling was futile, and just ignored it. Two girls seized my gloved arms and pulled my wrists together behind my back. Fi snapped on a pair of handcuffs. "Afraid these are cheap novelty cuffs, but I'm sure they'll do for the purpose," she said, the tone of her voice full of amusement. "And they're nice fluffy ones to avoid hurting you." I suppose I was meant to be grateful to her! Gathering my wits, I tugged at my wrists. Maybe the girls didn't realise that I knew about these cheap cuffs. I could bring my wrists over my feet, though the long heels on my sandals might make that more difficult. Once I had my wrists in front of my mouth, I knew that there were little unlocking levers on the cuffs that I could move with my teeth.

While I stood there thinking this, Helen knelt down and fixed another pair of cuffs on my ankles. "You've got such lovely slender ankles, Mel," she said, "I couldn't get these cuffs to fit round my ankles." They barely fitted round mine; they were tighter than comfortable. Still, if I could reach them I could get them off, too. My tight gloves might make that difficult, so I might have to take them off. Damn! I couldn't do that on my own without biting off the fake pearl buttons that held the gloves tight at the wrist. Still, it would be easy enough to get another pair of gloves.

I was still thinking too hard about how to escape to pay attention to what the girls were doing. So I was taken completely by surprise when they forced my elbows together until they nearly touched, and Fi took yet another pair of handcuffs and fastened them round my arms just above the elbows. "Now, Mel, I hope you didn't think I was going to let you bring your hands round to the front," she laughed. I was seething now, and beginning to get frightened, realising that escape was almost impossible. This new bondage forced me to pull my shoulders back, making my breasts stand out even further.

Once again I opened my mouth to yell, but this time Fi started to stuff something in my mouth. "In all these stories they stuff the captured heroine's mouth with her own panties," she laughed. At this, I began to struggle, but the girls held me firmly.

I clamped my teeth shut and refused to allow Fi to push the panties in any further. "Now, now, Mel, please do be a good little girl and don't be awkward," she cooed. "If you don't co-operate, I'll get one of the girls to take off her panties and use those instead." Reluctantly, I opened my mouth. At least these seemed to be a clean pair, not the ones Helen had just pulled off me. But they were scarcely a satin thong; they were a big pair of cotton knickers that filled my mouth until my cheeks bulged. Fi struggled, but eventually got them right in. She then pinched the middle of my lips between her thumb and forefinger, holding them tightly closed.

"Now, where's the sticky tape? Ah good, here we are." Helen put a strip of very wide tape across each half of my lips, wrapping the tape across my bloated cheeks, then another strip from the bottom of one ear, tightly under my chin, to my other ear. Fi then let go and Helen put another strip right across my mouth, sealing it firmly closed.

"Mmm ... mmm ..." I said indignantly. Hardly any sound emerged. All I could do was glare at Helen.

"We'll fix that glare," she said. "Now, just close your eyes a second or this will hurt." Instinctively, I did as I was bidden. Helen put pieces of tape over both eyes, pressing them down firmly. I could not open my eyes at all. "Now, this plasticine may be overkill, but better safe than sorry." I felt pieces of something soft pressed over my eyes, filling my eye sockets, followed by more tape.

"So you do understand, Mel, we just need to make you a little more helpless," came Fi's voice. Wasn't I helpless enough? "We have this nice leather belt, very long, designed for fat men." I felt something going round my handcuffed elbows and across my corseted belly. It was pulled tight, pressing my arms against my back and squeezing my belly even further.

I felt someone fiddle with the handcuffs on my wrists then push something between the tops of my legs. There was a sudden pain in my crotch. "This is what's called a crotch rope," came Helen's voice. I could feel her fiddling with the front of the belt. "You see, it's a thin cord going from your wrists to the belt buckle. You have to keep your hands tight against your cute little bottom or it will hurt." My hands were indeed pressed there and it was hurting enough anyway; I had no desire to increase the pain.

"Now Mel, can you walk?" That seemed a silly question from Fi, but I took an experimental step or two. With the handcuffs round my ankles, and tottering on my high heels, I could only move an inch or two at a time, not that I could see where I was going. "She can, girls. Let's put a stop to that." A couple of girls grabbed me and I felt things going round my thighs, knees and ankles, and pulled so tight that they dug in to me. "Silk scarves, nice and soft but very restraining when tight." Indeed, my legs were now welded together and I could not walk an inch. Gagged and blindfolded, with my arms totally immobilised, I was now utterly helpless.

I felt myself picked up and carried. Where were they taking me? I heard a door creaking open and suddenly it felt cooler and there was a different smell. They had taken me into my garage, which I had so carefully designed so I could get to it without going outside.

"Put her in the boot." I was lowered into something, and ended up lying on some carpet, presumably the boot lining. The girls folded my legs to get me in, pressing my knees against my breasts and my heels against my bottom. This made the scarves around my legs even tighter, and the crotch rope was agonising. The boot lid slammed shut. I was wedged in the boot too tightly for me to move. Another door creaked; it was my garage door swinging open. I felt people climb into my car. The doors slammed, the engine started and we moved off.

The Conclusion!

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