Will Henry - The Passionate Prisoners

"I can still vividly remember the humiliation of having to unfasten my good nylons, pulling down my girdle and panties, and hoisting my skirts before getting across Dad's knees. But the burning pain and heat of the spanking always made me overlook the humiliation, at least for the time being. Of course, all of this is ancient history now, but it does explain why I like the idea of having a man in charge of the house."

As he has done for a number of years, Larry tries to schedule at least one bondage session a week and sometimes arranges two. "As many times as we've done it," Doris explains, "I still get very apprehensive and do a lot of nail-biting beforehand. When Larry decides to conduct an evening session at home, he calls me around noon to give me advance notice. Of course, this gives me several hours to think about it and I usually manage to get myself worked up into a pretty good state.

"On such evenings, it is understood that I must be in my bondage uniform when he gets home. Although variations occur from time to time, the basic costume consists of sleeveless white satin blouse, full arm-length black kid gloves, abbreviated and very tight black satin skirt a couple of sizes too small, black nylon hose, and spike-heeled patent leather pumps. The undies must all be black: brassiere, panties, and extremely tight girdle of nylon and spandex elastic. This outfit is designed to be both appealing and restrictive, and I must say that it accomplishes both purposes. The skirt is so tight that it serves almost like a pair of hobbles, forcing me to take very tiny steps. To climb stairs or perform similar acts, I simply have to lift it out of the way. The girdle is also very tight, much tighter than I would normally wear.

"Wearing that outfit, I have to serve Larry drinks and dinner as if I were the maid. Of course, in that restrictive outfit I'm a little uncomfortable and it's difficult getting around in that tight skirt, but Larry always enjoys making me wait on him like that. Knowing, or least having a good idea of, what's in store for me afterward, I always find it is a good idea not to complain too much.

"After dinner he takes me into his study for the first stage of the ceremonies. A plain wooden chair is placed in the middle of the room, and I am required to sit backwards on it, moving as close to the back of the chair as I can get. This of course leaves my legs split well apart and pulls my skirt up to reveal stocking-tops, garters, and bare thighs.

First, my gloved wrists are tied together in a crossed position in the small of my back. Next, my ankles are tied to the back legs of the chair. To make me feel all the more helpless, my thighs are then tied quite securely to the sides of the chairs by ropes wrapped tightly around my thighs just below the tops of my stockings. Of course, while this is going on there is nothing for me to do but sit there and stew.

Next, he brings out the leather punishment helmet. The one we have is made of brown leather, opens with a zipper, and is mounted on a firm leather discipline collar that fits snugly around the neck. The helmet has openings only for the nostrils and the mouth, and is well padded around the ears to block out most sounds. It is quite an imposing punishment device, and I always swallow a little hard at the prospect of being imprisoned in it.

"Of course, my wishes are never consulted in the matter, and my head and neck are promptly confined in the collar and helmet. When my husband zips it up, that helmet really fits my head like a glove, even outlining my features. Of course, I can't see myself in it but Larry has taken some pictures of me in it so that I know what I look like.

"Next comes the gag, which is always mandatory as far as Larry is concerned. Although he occasionally likes to experiment, he basically prefers to employ a rubber ball with a length of rope inserted through it. I'll have to admit that that rubber ball is devilishly effective.

When he pushes it between my teeth and ties the rope tightly at the base of my neck, I have no choice but to constantly bite down on the gag, and that soon has my jaws definitely feeling it.

"When I have been helmeted and gagged like that, a leather leash is attached to a ring on the front of the discipline collar. My legs are untied for the time being and I am helped to my feet. My hands are left tied behind my back but that doesn't mean they have nothing to do. My satin skirt is rolled up and I am required to hold it up with my hands."

At this point, Doris produced a photograph which showed her attired and shackled in the manner she had been describing. The photo shows her head completely encased by the leather helmet, while the rubber-ball gag forces her mouth wide apart, and the discipline collar forces her to hold her head severely upright. Her wrists are tied in a crossed position behind her back and her gloved fingers are holding up her black satin skirt to reveal plump, tapering white thighs emerging from the tops of sheer black stockings. The whole effect of the photo is of helpless and willing submission.

"Larry then takes the leash and leads me down to a spare room in the basement which we have set aside as a bondage chamber. He uses all sorts of bondage positions and, during the course of a session, I am usually tied in at least three different positions. The helmet and gag are always left in place so that I can't see what's in store for me and can't complain no matter what he does to me. He has quite an imagination, and some of those sessions can really get grueling after awhile.

"For example, at our session last week he started me out by removing my skirt and tying my legs very tightly together at the ankles and knees.

He then attached a rope to the bonds at my wrists and began pulling it upward through one of several overhead devices he has installed in the ceiling. It wasn't long before I was bending very far forward, and was beginning to feel considerable strain on my arms and shoulders. He didn't stop until I was standing well up on my toes, and in fact was hardly touching the floor.

"I don't know how long he kept me in that position, perhaps just a few minutes, but it seemed like forever. It wasn't long before every muscle in my body was aching, and I was desperately trying to signal him through the gag to release me. I'm sure it was a very appealing bondage pose as far as he was concerned, but it was pretty rugged for me.

"The next position was easier, at least to begin with. Untying me completely, but leaving the helmet and gag in place, he had me stretch out supine on a low-slung wood coffee table that's about a foot high. My knees hung over the end of the table, which permitted my ankles to be tied to two of the table legs. He then passed my wrists under the coffee table and tied them somewhat loosely together. Another rope was tied around my waist and the table. That completed the bondage, which in itself was not too uncomfortable. However, as soon as he had finished restraining me, he simply turned the table over on the floor! This left me lying face down on the floor with that table right on top of me, and there wasn't a way in the world I could work my hands free. That basement floor of ours is good and hard, as I found out during the next fifteen minutes. That position wasn't painful but it was wretchedly uncomfortable, and there were times when I thought he was going to leave me there all night.

"When he released me, I thought I had had enough bondage for the evening and tried to tell him so through the gag. But he had one more position in mind and that was a session on the wheel, as we call it. We have a large, old-fashioned farm-wagon wheel mounted along one wall several feet off the floor in such a way that the wheel can be spun around quite freely. Still helmeted and gagged, I didn't realize what Larry had in mind until he stood me on a wooden box and I could feel the wheel at my back. A ride on the wheel is always wild and I found my knees getting a little weak under me at the prospect of being given a good spin. Larry quickly tied my wrists and ankles to various spokes of the wheel in a slightly spread-eagle fashion. Suddenly I felt the wheel turning, and around I went! Larry kept turning the wheel and of course it kept gathering momentum with every turn. Was that ever a wild sensation! If it hadn't been for the gag, I'm sure the neighbors could have heard me screaming. Larry didn't stop turning the wheel until I was completely breathless and hopelessly dizzy, and then he let the wheel run down of its own accord. I wound up standing on my head and simply had to remain in that position until Larry released me a few minutes later.