Inch by Inch

“L-look. I’m sorry I snapped. Brielle? Right? P-please don’t do this. This isn’t me. I’m not a… c-contortionist or a performer. I… I work at a bank for heaven’s sake! Please.” Hannah begged even as the other woman pushed her forward, Hannah’s bare breasts pressed against the door as Brielle firmly held her in place with a hand between her shoulder blades. The woman loomed over her, her massive heels putting her several inches taller than Hannah. “Whatever they did to you, whoever they are we can get…”

“Shhhh. Be still.” Brielle said, her voice firm though quiet from disuse. Hannah’s body insisted on struggling a few moments longer before she slumped in resignation. “Good. Arnold likely told you this could go one of two ways - the easy way or the hard way. It’s one of his favorite lines. The first thing you need to know is that I am the easy way, Hannah, as hard as you will find that to believe over the next few days.”

Hannah found herself listening, Brielle’s matter of fact tone calming her slightly though her heart still pounded hard enough in her chest she could almost feel it against the door.

“The second thing you need to understand is that you are wrong.”

Hannah took a long moment to respond. The words made little sense in her panicked mind. I’m wrong? There was something wrong with her? No. It was wrong that she was here. It was wrong that this other clearly captive woman had been made to do this. It was wrong that she had been locked in this tiny room on a ship only God knew how far away from her home.

“What do you mean?” Hanah asked as calmly as she could manage, trying not to think about the fact she was nude and handcuffed.

“You are a contortionist. Shhhh. No. I understand you, I understand your denial. I was you. You won’t accept it today, you won’t accept it tomorrow - but one day you will. Whatever Arnold is, he knows what he is doing. If he says you are a perfect contortionist, you truly are.”

The statement was so insane that Hannah again fell silent. Never. I’ll never accept it or stop fighting. Still, something tickled at her mind. ‘She used to be a pianist! Can you believe that?’ She heard Arnold again, the memory making her tremble. Brielle had been a pianist and now…

“Come. We will start with a basic stretch.” Brielle tugged Hannah back by her cuffed wrists until Hannah stood in the center of her new ‘room’. For a brief moment she considered fighting again, anything to not be here like this. But she had pounded at the door for hours and gained nothing but sore hands and a sore throat, she wasn’t likely to do any better now her wrists were bound behind her back.

“I… o-okay. Fine. I’ll do some stretches. J-just undo the cuffs?” Hannah asked as reasonably as she could manage. No longer pressed against the door she had once again become acutely aware of her nudity as well as the bare breast and pussy of the other woman and with her arms bound she wasn’t even afforded the decency a covering arm or hand could provide. “It would be hard to stretch with…What.. What are you doing?”

Hannah watched as the heeled woman bent over to pick up the discarded ball gag from the floor. The motion itself was impressive, the brunette not even bending her knees as she moved, her body just folding in half to reach the strap. That hadn’t been what had prompted Hannah’s question however. It was the fact that the woman was once again strapping the gag into place in her own mouth, her bright red lips slipping wetly over the ball.

“Arnold… Arnold doesn’t want you to have it off, I take it?” Hannah asked, confused. Brielle hesitated and then nodded once, her eyes dropping away for an instant as her face reddened.

Oh my god. She’s lying. She.. she wants it there herself. Fucking hell, what did they do to you?

Brielle sighed heavily through her nose and then looked back at Hannah before holding her hands together as if they were cuffed and shaking her head no and then gesturing again for Hannah to sit. She obeyed. What other option did she really have? Again Brielle gestured, this time for Hannah to lay her legs straight out in front of her and again Hannah obeyed.

Then Brielle went to the dresser just behind where Hannah sat. She could hear her opening the draws and taking various items from them and she twisted as best she could to see what they were.

“You said a basic stretch! Not.. not whatever those are for.” Hannah said, panic beginning to rise once again in her throat. She looked at the restraints and ropes and instinctually pulled her legs up to her chest away from them. Brielle just shook her head again and reached for Hannah’s ankle. Hannah was too numb to fight. She felt the mental urge to lash out but her body was leaden as the latex clad woman cuffed one ankle and the next and pulled her legs forward again until they were flat on the floor. Next Brielle attached a long rope to each cuff before moving to each side and attaching the other to rings she had pulled up from the floor. Hannah watched her tie the knots, her long fingers deft and practiced. Pianist fingers.

Hannah almost laughed at the thought though the sound turned into a whimper as Brielle stood in front of her once more, the ends of each rope still in her hands. The woman’s eyes were almost sorrowful as she began to pull and the cuffs at Hannah’s ankles were tugged to either side.

“W-w-wait. Brielle! I… I was serious, I can’t do this! Stop, please!”

Brielle ignored her and Hannah felt her legs spread wider and wider apart, her ass sliding a bit forward with each inch of rope that passed through Brielle’s hands. Soon Hannah felt the tension in her legs. She considered herself about average at best when it came to flexibility and she felt the burn begin even as the widening angle passed a hundred degrees.

Stupidly, moronically, the fact that her pussy was being spread with her legs made her face burn as hot as the muscles below. She couldn’t cover herself in front of this woman and Brielle made no secret of the fact that she was looking. “S-stop. That’s enough.”

Again Brielle shook her head and continued to pull until Hannah was sure something would tear. When she finally did stop it was only for a few heartbeats before she inched the ropes apart another several centimeters. Hannah was sure she was spread wider than she had even been and each time she was sure the next pull would bring the injury.

It didn’t.

It hurt enough that her eyes watered and her breath caught in her chest but each tug she thought would turn the fire into an inferno slowly calmed before the next pull. Still by the time she was stretched nearly into a full straddle she was nearly whimpering with the aching pain of it and it was only the now taut ropes that allowed her the balance to not fall forward.

“Okay! O-okay. A-are we done? I did it.” Hannah found herself surprised by the fact and marveled momentarily. It’s because you're a contortionist, just like they said, you were meant for this. “NO!” The shouted word came just as unbidden as the thought had. Even Brielle jumped at the sound but then bent to tie off the ropes in position.

“Wait. You aren’t… you aren’t leaving them tight like this, right? Brielle?” The two women’s eyes met and Hannah saw the answer she somehow knew she would before the restraintologist looked away and then stepped around the spread eagled Hannah. She felt the once pianist's fingers again at her wrists and almost let her believe her hands, at least, were being released. Instead another rope was tied to the cuffs before the far end was fed through another ring on the wall in front of Hannah.

Brielle didn’t give Hannah any time to protest before pulling the rope. It lifted Hannah’s wrists painfully, stretching her arms and shoulders up. Hannah fell forward, the tension of her back and a renewed burn in her thighs keeping her from falling face first to the floor. The slow tedious tightening began again. Pause. Pull. Pause Pull. Hannah begged, she couldn’t do this. In that moment she would have done anything to be cut free.

Soon she was nearly face to the floor, her legs still spread wide and her arms wrenched up behind her back. Straining her neck she could now only see the black heels in front of her. The motion stopped. Hannah waited for the next pull but it didn’t come. Instead the two women were silent. Still. Hannah just breathed and became acutely aware of the scent of her sweat and…

She could smell her pussy. Bent over as she was she could see it with just a small tilt of her neck. She was nowhere near close enough to lick it but she was far closer than she would have thought possible an hour ago. She mewled as she realized the thought was actually making her wet, a perverse uncontrollable spike of arousal taking hold.

Noooo. I.. I’m not turned on by this. I don’t want… I…

Her thoughts were cut off by the sound of the locks on the door being opened.