Monica - in a bondage palace

Monica spun helplessly in the darkness, falling over and over in the void, unable to tell which way was up, unable to remember anything but the sensation of weightlessness and motion for an eternity, until eventually she heard a low instinctive groan. Vague awareness began to return to her and after a while, she realized that the originator of the groan was her. A moment later, she blinked open her eyes then closed them tightly to prevent the inpouring of light.

Although she still felt the room spinning, she could sense that, in actual fact, she was sitting upright in a chair. Drool, she realized, had been leaking from her lips and she went to bring her hand up to wipe it away and to remove the mistiness from her eyes. Something was wrong however as her hand refused to obey her and remained by her side. A tug and she found that it was attached by the wrist to her other hand behind her back. She could pull it far enough around herself to see that it was held in place by metallic handcuffs! What the fuck? she thought. She tried to rise to her feet, which may have been inadvisable due to her disabling wooziness anyway, but the cuffs held her in place on the chair, obviously threaded through part of the back support behind her. Fuck!

Consciousness was rushing back at her like waves arriving at the beach. She knew she was in trouble!

Monica tried to brace her feet and discovered not only her wrists, but her ankles too were cuffed behind the chair legs and she could not bring them forward. She looked down dumbly at her knees, protruding an inch past the hem of her black leather skirt in black opaque tights, and pulled but was unable to get her feet into view due to the restraints.

"What..."? she said, but found she did not have the vocabulary yet to complete that sentence.

Her head felt like it weighed 200 pounds, but she pulled it upwards to gaze out beyond herself. What she saw made no sense whatsoever. She appeared to be in a large office space, relatively well furnished with an assortment of chairs set facing inwards to each other. Perhaps there should have been a board table in the middle. Other people sat on these chairs observed Monica briefly before the strength required to hold her head up became too much and she sunk into oblivion once more.

The next time she raised her head and opened her eyes, she was thinking more clearly. She pulled with her arms and legs once more with the same result. She was held fast. The women arranged in chairs around the room all regarded her silently. They were, Monica noted, well dressed for office life, and like her, all were restrained where they sat.

None of them said a word.

"Wh..what... what's going on?" said Monica nervously.

Noo-one replied.

"I... I can't move. Can someone help me please?" she said pleading but got no reply. Everyone did however stare at her. "Please. Please. I don't know what's going on. Can someone tell me? Please can someone get me out of this?" she pulled her arms to the side as much as the cuffs would allow and twisted as if to demonstrate the predicament she was in. Monica was still wearing the beige satin blouse she had gone to work in, she noticed. Like the rest of the room she looked ready to go to work in the office of the realtors she spent every Monday to Friday in, if they could raise their arms to type on a keyboard that is. As she scanned the room, she took in handcuffs adorning the wrists of many of the women. Rope was also used to hold some of their arms to their chairs' armrests

She noticed that at least two of them could not reply to her entreaties even if they wanted. A blonde, perhaps a little younger than Monica had what appeared to be a large rubber ball wedged in her mouth, held by a strap which went around her head.

The other, an older brunette, had some sort of hard ring in place, wedging her mouth open allowing Monica to see her tongue inside her mouth. Drool leaked down her chin and ran onto her green satin blouse.

Fuck! thought Monica. "Help!!!! Help!!!" she squealed as loudly as she could and began to thrash in her chair. There were looks of consternation from the women facing her, but none came to her aid. "What is this shit? Where am I!?" she screamed without reply. Most of Monica's co-imprisoned looked away as if they didn't notice her freaking out or were embarassed by it, somehow finding something on their laps more interesting than the screaming newcomer.

A couple did though and both looked concerned. "What the fuck are you all doing just sitting there. Help me!" Monica bucked back and forward raising the chair dangerously up on two legs at the front and back before settling down again. One or two of her room-mates looked aghast, but continued to say nothing.

"Come on!!! What the fuck? Are you all just going to sit there? Come on! Help me get out of this". she ranted.

An older woman with dark hair stared daggers as if mentally imploring her to stop.

"The fuck?" queried Monica staring back at her "What the hell are you trying to say? Why doesn't anyone....? HELP!!!" she yelled turning to look away.

As she inhaled for another bellow, she heard a whispered but insistent. "Shut up! Please!"

"What?" replied Monica at the top of her voice.

"Shhh!" the voice said again. It was a blonde girl in a lacy blouse to her right. She wore a collar and leash, but although the girl's hands were tied together behind her back, her legs were only bound up at her thighs. Otherwise she appeared free to stand and walk out, thought Monica absently. "You need to be quiet!" the girl insisted.

"What?" replied Monica. "Why? We need to get help. I gotta get to a phone." involuntarily reducing her pitch in response to the pleadings. Monica noted absently that she could make out the girl's breasts through her top - she wasn't wearing a bra. Somehow that didn't seem too important right now though.

"Shh. He doesn't like us talking! You need to stop shouting" the girl went on in hushed tones.

"What? That's ridiculous! Who doesn't? The fuck. I'll fucking get the cops. Man, he don't know what's" Monica began to argue, when suddenly the lights went out.

It wasn't just dark. It was absolutely black. They must be in a room with no windows Monica realized, when she heard some motion at the far side of the room.

"Hey who's there?" she called out, but was ignored.

No-one else spoke, but Monica knew there was movement around her. She could hear the footsteps and the air being disturbed.

This was freaking her out. She was terrified. Monica had never really been afraid of the dark, but now. It wasn't just the fear of something that might be out there. She knew there was definitely something out there and something was happening.

Fear overcame her natural outrage and her cries for help were silenced. She held her breath hoping that she would be ignored by whatever was going on. But no. She was not to be spared.

It started with a hand on her head as if patting a pet dog. Monica tried to ignore it, then the hand was joined by another and they stroked her face. She clenched her eyes and teeth in fear as the hands roamed at will across her face, then fingers found her mouth and began pushing at her lips.

"No. I... Get off!" she spat through gritted teeth. Suddenly one of the hands was lifted from her face and shot straight down inside her satin blouse and inside her bra cup in one quick motion. "Ooowww!!!" she squealed suddenly as the hand clamped on her tit and squeezed hard. "Ow! Stop thuuumpphhh!" she said as something hard **** its way into her now open

mouth. The hand in her bra left to join its partner behind her head, fastening some sort of strap around her, pulling tightly at her face.

"Uuuuch. ppph!" she tried to speak but just managed to get a few grunts out.

A few moments after that and the hands were gone. Monica could hear that whoever it was, was still in the room. but she wasn't being accosted at least. Her mouth felt stretched ridiculously, beyond where she would normally open it for a dentist, but whatever the hell was in it, she certainly couldnt budge it. She involuntarily made a couple of coughing noises and wished she hadn't. She realized now what a fool she had been. She really didn't want to attract any more attention. She knew she had to get out, but first she needed to survive! She had to be quiet and hope his attention was on the others...and it seemed to be. First there was rustling to her left and then her right, then footsteps across from her, but she seemed to remain relatively, well...unmolested?

Then, just as she had begun to hope to see the end of this without further violation, she knew he was standing right in front of her. She waited, nostrils flaring even as she tried not to breathe. Seconds went by, then a soft warm touch on her cheek.

At first she thought he was stroking her face with his finger then she realised it was too big and hot and knew that he was rubbing his erect cock on her face.

"nnnnn" she found herself saying through the gag, which if she was grateful for anything was blocking the potential for the entry of his cock in her mouth! Oh fuck, she thought as it traced its way up and down her nose, on her eyes and rubbed itself in the hair on top of her head.

Monica fought herself and made up her mind to remain calm and still as the penis dragged its way under her chin and along her neck. Then as suddenly as it had arrived, it was gone and the footsteps faded quickly into the distance. As the door clumped shut, the lights came on once more, iluminating the party.

Monica whirled about her. There were differences. The woman opposite her now had her skirt rolled up her thighs and her panties were visible. The one beside her had her blouse unbuttoned. Beside her again, an older blonde had her sweater rolled up, and her breasts protruded through her restraints. She looked at Monica accusingly.

And somehow worst of all, the younger girl who had sat beside Monica and implored her to silence, was gone!

Monica reeled. What had happened? Had her outbursts caused this?

She panted and her nostrils dilated as she turned to stare at each of the women in turn. Now cautious and trying desperately to understand what was happening, and how if possible she could escape.

Monica's thoughts, if not visions in her head, kept flashing back to his cock on her face, how quickly he grabbed her tit uninvited and how she could do nothing about it. She sat and pondered this for a long time as hour after hour passed in silence with her new companions.

She blinked and in her memory she could feel his hands in her hair, blinked again and his cock was pressing on her cheek once more. She looked down at her lap and found a small piece of card with two words inscribed on it in a calligraphic script. It read "Behave yourself"

Oh fuck, indeed.