Freak On A Leash

When Mina came to she ached. Shoulders, hips and neck all registered their throbbing complaints. It felt similar to when she’d spent too long sleeping during school breaks. Only rolling out of bed at well past noon.

She also felt heavy and weighed down, the reason for this became unnervingly apparent when she tried to get up. Her wrists were bound together, and not with rope or regular handcuffs. Mina recognised the wide leather manacles for what they really were, bondage gear.

Her heart leaped into her throat. Had she fallen asleep wearing these? Had her parents peeked into her room and seen her bound up like this?

It was secret she kept from everyone. Just a few articles of fetish wear she had pick up online over the years. Kept hidden from the world in a locked box deep inside her closet.

She had just been... curious. There was nothing wrong with it. She had a few naughty fantasies, and just wanted some props to enhanced the experience in the seclusion of her bedroom.

Where no one could neither see nor judge her.

But wait, no. These were not her manacles, the design was subtly different. More than that, the buckles on the cuffs and chains that bound them together had small locks on them to prevent easy removal.

Panic surged and booted Mina’s addled brain straight in to high gear. Her eyes flicked around the room. Again, this was not her bedroom. Nor any room she recognised.

It was sparsely furnished. Just a couple of old wooden chairs, a small drop-leaf table against the back wall, and old-fashioned single door wardrobe. The wallpaper was faded and peeling, and the floor was littered with dust and old plaster. Mina herself lay on a old metal bed frame, fitted with a thin mattress and some grubby sheets.

She gave her bonds an few experimental yanks and tried pulling at the locks, but her worst fears were confirmed. She had been fully secured.

As the panic in her grew to an ever higher thrum, she felt a cry for help rise in throat before the analytical centres of her brain **** it back down.

Did she really want call attention to the fact she was awake? She didn’t know where she was and, more importantly, who had brought and bound her here.

Mina knew she needed to investigate. And had to do so careful and quietly. She slipped slowly off the bed. The old matted carpet would nicely dampen her footsteps, but she needed to go slowly in case of creaky floorboards beneath.

Her feet were bare and she appeared to be wearing one her long black night shirts. She checked and was thankful to discover she had underwear underneath. Well, panties at least.

She put aside any thoughts of inspecting her body for signs of ‘tampering’ — that was way more than she could deal with right now — and instead crept towards the window, and the full glare of daylight being blocked by some raggedy curtains.

As she got within a few inches of the blinds, Mina felt herself being jerked back by the throat. There was a rough metallic thunk, a brief rumble of something heavy being dragged, follow by an almighty thud as Mina collapsed to the floor.

Dead silent returned as Mina lay on her back, breathing heavily, holding her throat.

She was wearing a collar. And there was another fucking chain attached to it. From her prone position, she could follow the path of chain all the back to the bed frame, which had been jolted several inches away from the wall.

She lay still for a long time but no sounds of alarm came. No muffled shouts, no rumble of running feet. Silence reigned.

Marshalling her courage, Mina carefully got back to her feet, doing her best not to rattle her freshly discovered leash.

She had bought a collar herself once, but it had been cheap and uncomfortable. At least she’d found a complete lack of **** fantasies hidden in her horny grey cells. Instead, preferring her airways to be unrestricted at all times.

Mina had since respecced her load-out for harnesses. And, by god, did she love her harnesses. She occasionally worn some of her more discreet elastic ones under har clothes when she when out with friends.

One time she had sat through the whole of Avengers: Endgame, just inches away from her friend Jonathan, secretly wearing a harness that ran between her buttocks and burrowed itself in cleft of her pussy.

Mina had left the cinema absolutely dripping with need and edged to perfection. It was a miracle of self control that stopped dragging Jonathan home with her than night, and having his cock do the work her wand eventually completed.

She never wore anything like that outdoors again. I was just too damn dangerous.

Having accidentally yanked the bed forward a few inches during her last attempt, there was now just enough length in her chain to let Mina peep through the curtains and into the outside world...