Prelude

The first thing Wallace did was to secure Denise's hands behind her back with a pair of handcuffs from his leather overnight bag. Then he began an elaborate breast bondage procedure, at one point calling on Hammer to assist. The two men wrapped long, narrow leather cords around the base of the woman's exposed breasts, passing the ends over her neck and shoulders to around back, forming a type of self-made bra.

"We need a safe word," Wallace told Denise as he fondled one of her heavy breasts, feeling the fullness of it. "Pick out something that you will remember no matter how stressful the situation."

"Robot," she answered immediately, smiling down at her bare breasts as the man she had just met played with them. Already she was experiencing the feeling of freedom that submission brings. In the 'real world', there would be no way she would be standing naked, allowing a stranger to grab and grope her, sexually molesting her. But in the world of Bondage and Domination, with her hands cuffed behind her, what could she do? She was powerless to resist.

"That word might come up in normal conversation during the session," Wallace replied.

"I can guarantee it will," Hammer chuckled behind Denise as he tied off one end of the leather cord.

"Alright," Denise replied, following the logic of how that word could cause confusion. "How about . . . ," an impish grin crossed her face. She had already picked up on Hammer's disdain for Martian culture. "Geronimo? Will that work, Abram?"

"Boatswain," he answered. When she looked quizzically at him, he explained. "During the session you will refer to me as 'Boatswain' and Jack as 'Number One'. It adds to the fantasy."

Without warning, he slid his hand in between her thighs and fondled her pussy, even going so far as to curl his middle finger and slip it inside her. Denise's knees bent and her eyes half-closed. As he expected, she was already moist. "Oh, yes, Boatswain," she sighed, "I . . . I understand."