False Imprisonment
by Gord


Chapter One

Myson, Bennett & Caldwell; Attorneys at Law

Benson eased back in the well-worn leather chair and flipped
the remote to pause. His brow furrowed as he studied the
frozen screen image; a Hurry of conflicting thoughts passing
through his mind as the statuesque figure of Alicia Berkeley
flickered slightly with the tracking defect of the old office play-
back machine. She looked so forlorn and helpless, wrists
manacled to her waist and ankles hobbled with a connecting
chain rising between her nylon sheathed legs. It was a
devastating turn of events that reduced a powerful socialite
figure to this humiliating spectacle in the period of a few short
weeks,

Alicia was the wife; or rather widow, of the recently deceased
Senator Berkeley, found shot dead in their luxury summer
home in Oregon.

Benson clicked ‘PLAY' and caught the last few words from
the Judge, who had just refused an application for bail by her
previous and now dismissed attorney.
 
“Alicia Jane Berkeley; you have been charged with the murder
of Willian John Berkeley; let the Court records show that you
have entered a plea of not guilty. Haying heard the evidence
placed before this Court by the District Attorney, I believe
there are sufficient grounds to commit you for trial by Jury.
Bail is denied. I hereby order you to be held in custody until
such time as a hearing can be arranged. Take the prisoner
out."

Alicia, grasped at the shoulder by the Court Sheriff, was turned
and ushered towards the stairway leading down to the cells.
The formerly haughty woman looked so forlorn and dejected;
shuffling miserably as the hobble foreshortened her stride. For
a second her tear streaked face was full screen, the inbred
emotional control of her social standing could be seen to be
finally cracking under the pressure. Benson quickly pressed
pause. Since the O.J. Simpson trial, televised proceedings of
any major criminal trial were the norm. Such a high profile
figure as the wife of a well-known Senator drew the media
vampires like flies to a jam pot. Whilst he disagreed with the
use of cameras in Court for public entertainment, at this very
instant he found himself feeling pleased that they had been
there to record something he’d missed in the hurly burly of
Court action. The captured image of that face told him all he
needed to know. Alicia Berkeley was innocent. Of that he
had no doubt.

For a fleeting second the camera caught a look that was too
complex to be the work of even a most accomplished actress.
There was shock, horror, fear, incredulous disbelief. Alicia
Berkeley was experiencing her first encounter with the reality
of the real world. Long held beliefs in the infallibility of the
justice system were smashed beyond repair. She knew was
innocent and yet there she was being led away in chains like a
common criminal. never again would she have the same
confidence in her right to freedom as long as she had committed
no crime.

Benson played the same section over and over, but his original
Impression remained just as strong no matter how many times
he watched.

“Morning Caldwell.”

He swung the chair around to see one of the senior partners
entering.

“Morning Alan.”

Alan Bennett was the vice president of the company, his
specialist field being corporate law.

“I hear Berkeley was indicted then, and no bail.”

It was a general conversational sort of interest tossed over his
shoulder as he made a beeline for the filing cabinets. Benson
shrugged at his back.

“Yes! As a matter of fact I was just going over the news tape
again. We’ve appealed against the bail decision; all
circumstantial evidence so far. Chances are we'll gel bail for
her if we have the right Judge.”

Alan stopped rummaging through the files and turned a
quizzical look towards him.

“On a ‘murder one’ rap? .. The murder of a senator?”

Benson smiled.

“I’ve got an ace up my sleeve that just might swing it.”

His partner frowned as he answered.

“Just so long as you don't drag the firm into something we'll
all regret later. When's the appeal hearing?”

Benson cast a glance at the court bailiff’s memo.

“A week today. Just enough time for me to get everything
ready.”

'And just enough time to give Alicia Berkeley a good taste of
the horrors of Prison life; away from the protection of
body guards and the like, rubbing shoulders with some of the
low life's of society'.

His thoughts went unsaid as Alan found the papers he was
after and wayed a cursory good-bye. As usual he was armpit
deep in a juicy litigation case with little time for any cases
undertaken by the other members of the partnership. Alan's
head popped back around the door.

“Oh! By the way, I'll be gone for about three weeks on this
one. If you lie I'll be at the LA Sheraton, and if Harold
rings in, tell him I need the files on Bell-Morton Incorporated.”

Benson wayed acknowledgement. The other partner, Harold
Myson, was at present occupied in the icy north. A lucrative
malpractice damages action in Alaska looked like keeping him
there for roughly the same amount of time, if not more.
Unfortunately he'd forgotten to unload files from his brief-
case before leaving and the Bell-Morton dossier was important
for the proceedings in L.A.

Benson swung back to his desk, flipped off the tape monitor
and sat deep in thought for some time.

There was no doubt in his mind that he could achieve an
acquittal in the Berkeley trial at the preliminaries. The evidence
was flimsy to say the least. But that would hardly serve his
undeclared aspirations in the Alicia Berkeley case. He needed
a long drawn out remand period if he was to achieve the end
result he had in mind. He reached for the phone and dialled
in a number committed to memory by way of its frequent
usage.

“Eddie? Benson Caldwell! Listen, I’ve got some work for
you and I need it done quick.”

There was a pause as Eddie put him on hold for some reason.

“You there? .. Yes! Right first time, Berkeley! .. Alicia Berkeley.
Can you take it?”

He listened as Eddie made all the normal noises that translated
as ‘inflated bill for a favour’ and grinned.

“OK! OK! I got the message Eddie, so how much more will it
cost to drag you away from this multi-million dollar job you
must complete first?”

There was a silence then Eddie gave his figure.

“You cheap skate crook! That's a rip off and you know it.”

There was a pause as Eddie made his standard pained, indignant
protestations. Benson allowed him the usual time, then
capitulated as always.

“OK I'm convinced, now get your ass into gear and get down
to Denyer and start digging. Berkeley is innocent; and I want
proof; .. like yesterday. At the same time I want anything else
you can dig up that the opposition might be able to twist to
their advantage, Kapeesh?”

Benson put the phone down feeling a might more relieved.

With Eddie Pasco on the job he was assured that within the
week he would know which ass cheek of his client had a mole.
As P.I.’s went Eddie wasn’t cheap; but he was the best.


Chapter Two

The Appeal

It was a slow week for both Benson and the distraught Alicia.
Her unending resentful protestations regarding her innocence
finally wore thin on the prison staff. A tantrum, ending in a
meal tray being hurled across the dining hall, earned her a full
set of chain restraints for the duration and a warning that it
was within the warden’s power to instruct that she be gagged if
her vitriolic unending verbal abuse of warders didn’t end.

Shocked and frightened when faced by the might of State,
Alicia became dh pie and withdrawn as she served the three
day lock-down punishment. By the time she was taken out
and fitted with her daytime walking shackles, she was basically
becoming a walking comatose. Benson was taken aback when
he visited on the Thursday. The arrogant self-assured debutante
was a crushed person. In a way it suited his plans, but it was
still unnerving to see the indisputable effects of life in prison.
Alicia was led to a chair in the interview room and seated, her
chains rattling against the chair were a permanent reminder
that she was at the mercy of her keepers. Benson looked up at
the warderess

“Lose the chains will you?”

The warderess shook her head.

“Governor’s orders, she stays shackled at all times outside her
cell for as long as she’s on remand. That tray nearly decapitated
another warder.”

The warderess gave Alicia a self-satisfied look and left. Clearly
she was entirely in agreement with keeping this rich spoilt
bitch chained.

Benson sat for a while and allowed her to fidget nervously as
he sorted papers.

"Well Mrs Berkeley. You certainly seem to have done yourself
no favours at all by making a fuss. I did warn you to play it
cool and let me handle it.”

Alicia looked at him with red rimmed eyes: he could see she
was close to tears.

“Get me out of here Caldwell. Please! You must get me out!
I can’t take this any longer. I'm innocent, I didn’t do anything.
You must get me- -!"

Benson held up a hand and put a stop to her pleas.

“I'll get you out, don't worry. .. But until Monday you have to
wait. Only intervention by the President could get you released
before then. However, seeing as Bill Berkeley was an old school
buddy of his, I doubt we can expect any help from that quarter.”

A solitary tear ran down her cheek and she averted her eyes to
stare at something behind him as her lips quivered and she
fought to control her feelings of hopelessness.

“Now listen and listen carefully. To get bail for a murder suspect
isn’t going to be easy despite the flimsy evidence. I'll have to
give the Judge something that goes way beyond money in the
way of assurances and this is where you come in.”

He waited as Alicia struggled to control the barely suppressed
sobs, then he went on.

“I’m going to suggest that in addition to bail, you are released
into my custody.”

He paused again to let that sink in and as he watched, the old
arrogant Alicia made a partial come-back as she pushed the
self-pity to the back of her mind in an attempt to come to
terms with her predicament.

“And just what does that entail?”

The old Alicia Berkeley was rapidly resurfacing. Benson pursed
his lips and took a deep breath. The plan he had in mind was
unlikely to do down well with the resurrected society bitch
across the table.

“I'm proposing to take custody on a twenty four hour basis."
He let the words hang in the air as Alicia absorbed all the
implications.

“You mean a full twenty-four hours, day in day out; that we
live together?”

Benson nodded .

“Not exactly sharing a bed, but yes, that pretty well sums it
up. Apart from the Judge, | have my partners to think of. As
it is they are not going be all that pleased when they find out
that I’ve basically put all the company assets on the line for
your bail. No bail bondsman will touch this case with a barge
pole.”

Alicia's eyes flashed dangerously.

“Well you can put that idea out of your head right away. If you
think I'm moving in with you, forget it.”

Benson shrugged.

“It’s either that or you stay here until the Jury trial. even
then it’s a slim chance I can swing it.”

Alicia sat frozen faced as the prospects of a prolonged stay in
remand prison swelled in her mind.

“How long? How long before we get to trial?”

Benson shrugged again.

“Two - Three months. Could be a year if the Police want to try
and delay things in the hope that they can dig up something
more substantial by way of evidence.”

Alicia's face blanched. She raised her hands to wipe away
another tear welling from the corner of her eye and the chains
snapped taut halfway to her objective. The tear rolled
downward unimpeded, the full measure of her manacled plight
came home to roost,

“All right! All right! I'll go along with that; .. but separate
rooms; .. and you keep your hands to yourself.”

Benson nodded, concealing his smile of triumph by looking
down into the open briefcase. Alicia sat for a second trying to
control a sob, then fired a question at him.

“So what happens now?”

He looked up again and fixed her with a stern look.

“You go back to your cell and you sit tight. I don’t want any
more histrionics. Besides, if you keep upsetting the warders,
your next few days will get a lot tougher than they are already.
Believe me! These women warders are used to dealing with
vicious killers, gang molls and hookers. They know just how
to put you in your place and you won't like it one little bit.”

Alicia cast her eyes down and nodded as Benson made a sign
to the warderess standing outside the door beyond the armoured
glass window.

“Now remember! Cool, calm; .. and for Christ's sake, try to
be friendly with them. They're only doing a job.”

She nodded and rose as the door opened. Benson watched as
she shuffled out, her chains clinking, then turned and left.

The next few days were spent going over statements and
evidence with a fine toothcomb. Bill Berkeley was shot in
the head at point blank range. Unfortunately his back had
been towards a window overlooking the roof tops of town and
the exiting bullet probably winged its way into oblivion. The
entry wound pointed to a large calibre weapon and seeing as
Alicia was the registered owner of a Colt 45 Auto, it was
assumed by the prosecution that this was the murder weapon.
Lab tests to prove any recent firing of her weapon were out of
the question. According to the defendant Alicia, it had been
stolen in a burglary some months previous. A further damning
piece of evidence was her failure to report the loss. Benson
moved further into the Coroner's autopsy, noting with interest
that the body exhibited bruising on the wrists, consistent with
those made by someone struggling to be free of handcuffs.

Now why would Alicia Berkeley need to handcuff an
unsuspecting husband prior to blowing his brains out? How
could she have handcuffed him if he did suspect? .. Senator
Berkeley was a powerfully built man. It didn’t add up.
Furthermore, why would she then have removed them before
calling the Police. Handcuffs would have indicated the presence
of someone uninvited; .. a house breaker or the like, who maybe
chickened out and panicked. Benson leaned back and rolled
it around in his head. There were no hints of anything other
than a successful marriage; no rows overheard by house staff;
no rumours of extracurricular activities by either partner. Why
would Alicia want to kill her husband? She was rich in her
own right, so money could be ruled out as a possible motive.

The answer was obvious. She hadn't! Someone else had; ..
and by the looks of it they were trying to frame her.

Friday morning the phone rang. It was Eddie Pasco.

“Hi Benson. .. Good news and bad.”

Benson prepared himself for the worst and eased back into the
well-worn leather executive chair.

“Where are you?”

“In a rented apartment about three blocks away from you; I
flew back from Denyer last night. The basic information is
this. They! .. ‘Alicia and her ex-husband’ have two homes;
the main residence is in Denyer. They also have another
summer house just over the state line into Oregon, about two
miles from Portland. That's where her husband bought it.
But I'm at another place I discovered in Seattle; rented by
Alicia under the name Marcia Grant.”

Benson's mind raced to absorb that morsel of information
and all the possible permutations of what that could lead to as
he asked to hear the worst.

OK! So give me the bad news first.”

“Alicia Berkeley had some sort of a kinky thing going on at
this place. She travelled up from Denyer on a regular basis.
Nothing serious. .. I’ve searched the place; some sexy clothing;
boots, the usual gear. But get this, there were a set of handcuffs
in the dresser drawer and some bits of rope. I’ve had the cuffs
checked over privately and they're plastered with her finger
prints.”

“Any others?”

He heard Eddie sigh with a resignation to the answer.

“No just hers.’

Benson frowned, then became attentive again as Eddie added
more.

“It’s weird. There were no signs of anyone other than Alicia
Berkeley ever having been in that room. Nothing! All the
hair samples are hers. Usually there's something to give away
another man; .. or woman for that matter.”

Benson's frown deepened as Eddie paused to let him absorb
that.

“So what's the good news?

Eddie chuckled.

“The good news is that the cops haven’t picked up on it at all.
Usual efficiency. They're letting their class discrimination
run riot. Rich bitches are prime fodder for downtown cops;
makes their day if they can take one down.”

Benson's brain raced.

“OK! So touch nothing, put the cuffs back and get the hell
out. We can’t remove possible evidence, but if the cops are too
dumb to find it that’s their problem. I'm not employed to do
their job and I sure as hell ain't paying you to do it either.”

Eddie laughed. It went against his principles to help the cops
on a case like this.

“OK! I'll sniff around for another day and then I'm heading
north to Vancouver for a couple of days. .. Seems she went up
there last year, there's a scribbled note about some guy with a
treadmill of all things. Must be a fitness nut or something.
You never know, there might be a connection. If I dig up
anything else I'll call or bring it to court.”

Benson placed the phone back on the hook, paced the office
for an hour, then called the prison to set up another client
attorney meeting.

Alicia shuffled in, somewhat surprised to see him before the
hearing on Monday. Benson motioned to the chair and waited
until the warderess closed the door behind her.

“So tell me about the apartment and the handcuffs.”

A look of shock and guilt flashed across Alicia's face; .. then it
was gone as her agile brain clicked into dear.

“Oh! You mean the Seattle apartment . That was a place |
got for a friend of mine who left her husband.”

She was lying! Benson knew that from the forensic tests Eddie
had done on hair samples found there; but he let it lie for the
present.

“And the cuffs? .. What did your ‘friend’ want with a pair of
handcuffs?” This time the pause was a fraction longer, but
the answer when it came was just as slick.

“She was always afraid of burglars; she kept them to disable
anyone if she managed to overcome them.”

It wasn’t bad for a rush explanation.

“She can defend herself then?"

Alicia came back instantly on that one, probably drawing an
image from someone she actually knew.

“Oh! Yes. She's a black belt karate”

Her eyes held his searching look, almost defying him to make
her back down. He had to hand it to her, she was one cool
chick when she wanted to be. His conviction that she was
innocent of murder never faltered, but she was hiding
something.

“Well fortunately, the Police haven’t picked up on it. If what
you say is true, it isn’t relevant anyway.”

He paused to add impact to his next revelation.

“Except that Bill was handcuffed before he was killed.”

There was genuine shock in her eyes. She was truly astounded
to hear that, which all went towards cementing his initial
impression that she was falsely charged.

“Not to worry. I have no intention of giving the Police any
helping hands and I'd rather not know who this friend is. The
less I know the better; .. ethically. That little prosecution
torpedo can be kept as our little secret.”

A look of annoyance played across her beautiful features. Alicia
Berkeley was not used to having someone in a position of
power over her. Bill Berkeley may have been a Senator, but
she ruled him at all times outside the senate offices. Benson
indicated that the meeting was over and started to rise.

“Just a thought. It isn’t doing our case any good with you
turning up in court dressed like a shop window dummy straight
out of Saks. Courts, cops, judges, juries, like to see snooty
bitches put in their place. A little more humility would go a
long way. See if you can swap with some of the other inmates,
something cheap if possible. That shouldn't be difficult, there
must be at least fifty hookers on remand in here and I'm sure
you'd find them more than willing to do a swap for those classy
glad rags you were wearing when they arrested you. Better
still, have an accident with them and then have to buy some
off the girls. A woman really down on her luck is the impression
we need and I can use that in court to gain some sympathy.
Loose the face job as well. You look like you just stepped out
of a beauty parlour. Borrow some cheap lipstick and eye-shade.”

Alicia stared at him blankly as he reinforced the suggestions.

“Do it if you want to get the hell out of here.”

He called the warderess in and left his client sitting stunned at
the table. The next time she would see him would be in court.

***

“All rise, Judge Benjamin D Horton presiding.”

Alicia stood nervously, stomach knotted with fear and knees
threatening to start the humiliating chains of her restraints
rattling for all to hear. The judge looked a mean son of a
bitch. As he sat and fixed her with his stare she could discern
no trace of any compassion for her appalling plight.

“Be seated, Portland Appeals Court is now in session."

The court sat and Alicia trembled as her chains dragged noisily
across the hard wooden chair edge. Benson leaned over and
gripped her arm reassuringly as he whispered in her ear.

“Keep calm; .. try and relax. You're giving the perfect image.
Scared, bewildered and alone. That's just what we want. By
the way, the clothes and make up are spot on."

His eyes wandered down to the tight Lycra mini skirt, nylon
clad thighs and high heeled calf boots of a street walker, then
raising his gaze he looked into the mascara shaded eyes and
scarlet lips as he spoke.

“A little bit over the top, but I'll make sure the court knows
you were forced to buy the gear from a hooker. By the way,
what happened to the glad rags?”

Alicia managed a half smile as she whispered back.

“Prison soup! That slop will rot just about anything.”

Benson gave her a smile and another shoulder squeeze then
turned back to the bench. Judge Horton was waiting
impatiently.

“If we are quite ready Mr Caldwell, perhaps we can proceed; ..
if it isn’t too much of an inconvenience that is.”

Benson smiled inwardly. Old Horton was in a jovial mood, at
least that was in their favour.

“Sorry Your Honour, I was just inquiring as to what happened
to my client's clothing. Apparently it was destroyed whilst in
prison and she wishes to apologize to the court for appearing
thus attired. She had to purchase these-! These clothes, for
want of a better description, from another inmate.”

Judge Horton bowed his head and peered over the half-eye
specs. Although he didn’t speak, Alicia could feel his eyes
plundering the contours of her body. A skin tight blouse and
Lycra mini skirt did little for modesty. Benson was speaking
out of the corner of his mouth as he stooped to pick up papers.

“Got the randy old bastard interested. Keep flashing it Alicia
and we'll have him eating out of our hands. Remember; tarty
but frightened. Men are suckers for good looking dames in
distress.”

His client looked mortified at the thought of deliberately
Haunting herself, but the spectre of a year in remand prison
was a powerful incentive. Benson gave her a clandestine wink
as she meshed her nylon clad thighs defensively, a deliberate
act that was clearly visible to the appreciative judge at the far
side of the open defence council desk. Instinctively, Alicia
knew that a clear ‘no’ message to any male was the equivalent
of a red rag to a bull. In this situation; the fact that she was
chained and at the mercy of the court, it merely added to her
pathetic appearance of vulnerability.

Benson launched into his appeal and for an hour, defence and
prosecution crossed swords in a battle of reasoning. Council
for the defence attacked the flimsy nature of the evidence and
claimed it would be inhuman to expect an innocent citizen to
endure prison for so long on the strength of their case. He
also pointed to her faultless past; the charitable activities in
support of her husband's social policies and the complete lack
of any evidence that would give a motive for the murder.
Equally the prosecution fought back with fears for public safety
if this merciless killer should be allowed to walk the streets. It
was virtually a stalemate and Benson could see that the judge,
his mind in the balance, was likely to swing in favour of caution.
That was when he put everything on the line.

“Your Honour. I am prepared to take personal custody of my
client; so strong is my belief that she is innocent of the charges.”
Judge Horton sat back and appraised him with raised eyebrows.

“Personal custody Mr Caldwell? I take it you know what that
means in terms of responsibility. If the defendant doesn’t
show, you forfeit bail and you are liable to be held in contempt
of court. Mr Caldwell, be perfectly clear about this, you are
putting your career on the line here.”

He fixed Benson with a piercing stare.

“Yes your Honour, I'm fully aware of the implications, but 
perhaps that will serve to convince you of my own conviction
that the defendant is innocent.”

Judge Horton said nothing and continued to bore into Benson
with his calculating eyes. There was silence throughout the
court. The prosecution were taken completely unawares by
the unprecedented proposals of defence council and could offer
no real opposition at such short notice.

At last Judge Horton sat up from his forward inclined position
of intense concentration.

“Very well Mr Caldwell. The prisoner is discharged into your
custody, bail set at two million dollars.”

Benson reeled under the weight of the financial commitment.
If Alicia failed to show at the trial, Myson, Bennett & Caldwell
were finished. Pale and shaken he nodded acceptance at the
Judge.

“Thank you your Honour.” Judge Horton smiled grimly.

“If Mrs Berkeley doesn’t show you may have reason to curse,
not thank me Mr Caldwell, but then we shall have to see,
won't we?’

“All rise for Judge Horton. Portland Appeal Court is now
closed."

Benson turned to face Alicia as the warderess came forward to
remove her shackles. She was obviously shaken at the turn of
events and the strain of the battle for her interim freedom had
left her weak and speechless. Benson took her arm as the
chains fell away and Alicia reached over with her other hand to
massage a wrist that had long been ringed in steel.

“Come Mrs Berkeley, time to get back to the office and get to
work. We have a trial to prepare for.”

Alicia pulled back slightly as he moved towards the courtroom
door.

“First we have to do home and let me fetch some decent clothes.
I can’t walk around dressed like a cheap hooker.”

“Sorry! That's out of the question for a variety of reasons.
Number one, your home is under police guard as a crime scene
location and you're not allowed to leave the State anyway. In
case you hadn't remembered your other home is out of the
State of Oregon; and your friend's flat in Seattle doesn’t
appear to have any suitable clothing for walking the streets
according to my investigator. Secondly, you have to keep up
the image. It worked on Judge Horton and it will work again.
Between now and the trial the media is going to be hounding
you; looking for any sign of that original arrogant socialite to
lampoon in their grotty little newspapers. Best you stay as
you are; get the average Joe Public feeling sorry for you. Besides,
I think you look rather good in that get up.”

Alicia made as if to reply, but found herself looking at his back
as he led the way. It unnerved her to be snubbed like that. It
was a new experience for her, but she decided to leave the point
until a better time and followed as he opened the door.
Instinctively, she made to get into the back as they got to the
car, but Benson ushered her to the front seat.

“Image Alicia, remember the image. Rich society dames ride
in the back.”

She gave him a venomous look then sulkily slid into the front
seat, deliberately ignoring the snow storm of flash bulbs from
the press. Benson paused before closing the door and she felt
the searing heat of his eyes on her high riding mini-skirted
thighs. Self-consciously she tugged at the Lycra in an attempt
to cover the huge expanse of visible nyloned thigh, but as soon
as she let go, the elastic material shot back up. Flashing bulbs
turned into a blizzard and Benson grinned widely as the press
snapped up the opportunity to get some cheap shots:

The trip to the office seemed like an eternity. but that was
mainly because Benson made little effort to hide his admiration
for her lewdly exposed legs and a portion of stocking top that
refused to stay hidden. Alicia, fully conscious of his attention,
was haying grave doubts about the personal twenty-four hour
custody; but until she found an alternative, it looked as if she
was destined to be leered at.

Benson's office proved pretty much as expected. Reeking of
leather and musty books, yet lush and bearing all the trappings
of a prosperous law firm. She seated herself in a chair to one
side. Benson, after seating himself at his desk, pointed to a
seat directly in front of him.

“Sit there will you, I don’t want a crick in the neck trying to
talk to you.”

Alicia hesitated. Dressed as she was and seated in a low chair,
Benson would have a perfect view of her upper thighs as they
disappeared into the scant cover of the mini dress. It was
entirely possible that he would even be able to see the ‘y’ of
her panty crotch, the only item of her own wardrobe she still
possessed.

The hesitation was momentary. After all, he had put his firm
on the line for her and then there was that nasty piece of
damning evidence, the handcuffs. Rising, she shifted seats as
he looked on. Watching his face as she moved, Alicia swore
that his expression was one of confident control. The harshness
of prison Life was behind her for now, but it seemed that she
had merely swapped it for a more subtle style. Somehow, the
realization came as no surprise. Since meeting Benson she
had sensed an underlying strength in the man that she found
strangely compelling.

For an hour, Benson went over and over the case, grilling her
mercilessly on facts, times, and places covered by her alibi.
She remained resolute that at the time of the rides she had
been out shopping. Only when he started on places,
highlighting apparent anomalies in travelling times in between,
did the chinks start to appear.

Alicia became angry at first, then flustered as his skillful cross
questioning widened the cracks. Finally she broke with his
eyes as it became apparent that she was lying.

“All right! So I wasn’t shopping, I was at the apartment.”
Benson quietly leaned back in the chair.

“Go on! What were you doing at the apartment?”

Alicia looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“I was taking a break, a rest from public life. I just need
somewhere to go now and then to unwind on my own. Being
a senator's wife isn’t easy you know.”

Benson fixed her with his standard skeptical a stare.

“On your own, or was there someone else there?”

The suggestion was rejected vehemently and he believed her.
But she still wasn’t telling the truth. There was something
else about that flat, but he could be patient on that score. The
handcuffs for a start. If it was her flat alter all, a fact he
Stet knew thanks to Eddie; then what were the handcuffs
for?

"Well that's enough for Now. We'll get to work on it tomorrow.
Meantime, we'd best find you something to do around here.
If you are going to be here all day for several months I think
the best course of action is to employ you as my personal
secretary. In fact with my normal secretary in LA assisting on
a case, it would help me out.”

Alicia looked at him closely, as if trying to unveil any hidden
purpose behind his proposal. Detecting none and seeing the
sense in helping to pass the time by occupying herself with
office work, she nodded in agreement. As it was, she had been
the main organizer in her husband’s life for many years, so it
was be second nature to her.

“Right then. Now I must go out fora while, but I have to visit
another client in jail, so you'd best stay here. Now remember,
I said here! You're in my custody and if anything goes wrong I
carry the can. So when I say here I mean in this office. No
going out. Understand?”

Alicia grumpily agreed. Rising, she moved over to get the
coffee percolator going.

“How long do you expect to be?”

Benson thought for a second calculating the distance to and
from the county jail and time taken in interview.

“Oh! I'd say in the region of three or four hours."

She didn’t make comment, so he turned a with a cursory wave,
left for the car park.

Alicia watched him draw out of the basement lot and then
hurried to the door. Now was her chance to go downtown and
get some decent clothes on her account; but first she needed
some cash for a cab; that gave her pause to think. Returning
to the desk, Benson's desk drawer produced thirty dollars in
petty cash. Plenty for the cab and hopefully once she got to
the store, her interstate credit charge account would still be
active.

Two hours later a disheartened Alicia opened the door to
Benson's office and found herself face to face with an angry
custodian who, had returned early.

“I knew you might try something stupid like this. Did you
ever stop to think what would have happened if a police officer
had spotted you. You would have been arrested immediately.
Get this through your silly little head. You're in my charge.
That means where I go, you go! If I don’t go, you don’t go.
And anyway, I would have thought you'd have realized that all
your assets and accounts are frozen pending the outcome of
the trial. Until you win this case you are broke, penniless,
destitute. Anything you want I will have to buy for you. Now
sit over there.”

He pointed to a stool and cowering under the wrath of his
anger, she complied. Wide eyed and begging she watched as
he withdrew a set of chains from his briefcase and advanced on
her position. They were something she recognized only too
well as memories of prison life flooded back.

“I can’t trust you to do as you are told yet, so these go back on.
I really do have to go to the county jail, but I'm not taking the
chance of you bankrupting this firm with your stupidity. Put
out your wrists.”

Alicia pulled her wrists back and pleaded.

“Please no, I promise I'll stay in. You don’t have to do this.”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears as he reached forward, grabbed a
wrist and snapped on the first cuff. Soon she was cuffed and
hobbled. Benson pulled her from the stool and she stood
tearfully as he added the waist chain and connected the
restraints up with loud clicks.

“OK! So now if you feel like going out, at least you won't go
unnoticed.”

Alicia tested her chains, discovering that unlike the loosely
coupled wrist links of prison, Benson had by mistake, or design,
chosen the close coupled settings that held her hands pinioned
to her tightly encircled waist. In addition, his selection of
connecting link on the dangling waist to ankle chains had
pulled he hobble chain high and reduced her movements to a
small tripping step. Benson stood back and grinned.

“Hmm! I could get to like this. Can’t see you going far like
that and in that skirt.”

Alicia flushed profusely as she contemplated the whores
clothing, the high heeled calf length boots; all in conjunction
with what was to all intents and purposes a bondage get-up.

“Better just make sure it's not too tight in case there's a fire.
Walk over there and back.”

Without even thinking Alicia tearfully complied; only realizing
as she made her way back across the office that his intentions
were purely voyeuristic and in no way a consideration for her
safety. Benson was having a ball watching her tightly skirted
rump and the thrust of her bosom as she struggled to come to
terms with the hobble's restriction.

“You lecherous bastard! get me out of this now, or else I'll—!”

“You will what? As your custodian I am perfectly within my
rights to make sure you abide by the Court ruling. Those
manacles were supplied by the prison service for precisely the
reason you find yourself back in them. Now stop ranting and
raying and get used to it. If it makes you feel any better, I'll
get some new clothes for you on my way back. There's a nice
little boutique downtown on 5th street that has some good
outfits.”

Alicia bit her tongue and glared at him. There was no point in
pushing the point further. She was chained and there was very
little she could do about it until he chose to release her. Futile
attempts to rid herself of the shackles whilst in prison had
taught her to respect their strength and security.

The door closed behind his back and she heard the key turn in
the lock. Minutes later she saw the car pulling away, confirming
her fears that it wasn’t just a joke and that he had actually left
her chained up like a cheap tart in bondage.

Tiptoeing awkwardly in the boots, she inched over to the plush
Chais-longue and eased herself down. If only she could dump
the boots that would be a help. A swift check ruled that out.
The ankles hobbles were clamped tightly around her limbs
and even if she were able to reach down with her cuffed hands,
there was no way she could work the boots down past the
unyielding steel manacles. It looked as if she was stuck with
the hooker’s stilts. At least they felt like stilts to a woman who
had never experienced 6” heels before.

Defeated and weary she hoisted her legs up onto the Chais-
longue and laid back. At least it was a lot more comfortable
than that board like bed in her cell. But then, she hadn't been
at risk from a man. It was a daunting thought to be secured
and basically owned by Benson, by order of the State. It made
her feel like an item rather than a person

A puzzling feeling of warmth tickled at her mind as she came
to terms with the reality of her situation.


Chapter Three

A time of change

Benson returned some four hours later and Alicia only awoke
at the sound of the closing door. She blinked as the light
pierced the gathering gloom of early evening with an eyeball
searing glare. Sleepily she struggled to a sitting position and
hearing the rustle of paper wrapping, turned her head in his
direction.

True to his promise, he had come back laden with clothes,
judging by the size and shape of the paper bags.

“Come over here Alicia. Let's get those leg irons off.”

Eagerly; anxious to shed the restrictive chains from her body,
Alicia stood and shuffled over as he watched with obvious
pleasure. He was certainly enjoying the spectacle, but there
was little she could do to avoid bouncing her jutting breasts in
the tight profiling blouse when her walk was reduced to such
short jerky steps. Benson stooped and after a few seconds the
ankles shackles fell clear; to be followed by the dangling chain
that swung from her waist restraint. She turned and faced
him so that he could unlock the wrist manacles nestling against
her trim waist, but was perturbed as he shook his head and
went back over to the discarded shopping bags.

"Sorry Alicia. The wrists stay handcuffed. We’ve got to go
home now and I'm not risking you doing a runner on the
way."

Alicia’s mouth fell open; ...then recovering, she blasted him
with her anger.

“For God’s sake man. Surely you're not going to parade me
through the streets like this are you?”

Her eyes searched his face as she waited for an answer.

“Well not entirely, but pretty much like that.”

He drew a heavy item of clothing from a bag and shook it out
as he approached her. It was along knee length cape. Seething
with anger, Alicia shrugged herself away from him as he tried
to drape it around her shoulders.

"Get the hell away from me. I'm not going out shackled like
this.”

Benson cocked an eyebrow at her.

“You’ve got two choices. Do as your told, or I take you straight
back to the remand prison and tell them I can’t guarantee
your bail conditions.”

Alicia stood silently, her face suffused with both anger and
indecision as she considered the options. Finally her fear of
the austere regime of prison life proved the decider.

“I’ve got no choice and you know it you bastard.”

She stood still as he offered the cape a second time and fought
back the urge to bring her knee up into Benson's crotch. He
was standing perfectly positioned as he buttoned up the front.
Alicia raised her chin slightly and felt the high clerical style
collar of the cape snug in a clip together.

He stood back and glancing down at herself, Alicia saw that in
the final analysis, it wasn't as bad as it seemed. The cape
effectively hid any sign that she was secured and a feeling of
relief swept through her.

“So what about the other clothes? When do I get out of these
whore rags?”

Benson grinned.

“Oh! I think we can let that wait until you get home. yet,
I suspect you would rather be unchained; have a nice hot bat
and relax for a while before you put on nice clean new clothes.”

Grudgingly, Alicia had to admit that made sense. She watched
as he collected up the other bags, noting that he had slipped
the ankle chains into one of them and then followed him to
the door.

The lift journey did a lot to ease her trepidation. The bellhop
never gave her a second glance and seemed oblivious to the
fact that a handcuffed woman was standing less than a foot
from him. The cuffs chinked once and he searched around
momentarily with a puzzled expression, but Benson saved the
day by moving the keys in his hand to produce a similar sound.
The bellhop turned to look back at the descending floor
numbers and Alicia saw Benson wink in her direction. Her
opinion of him mellowed slightly as she perceived a deliberate
attempt to save her embarrassment. It was a short lived re-
appraisal of her keeper.

Benson hadn't parked the car in the underground lot. Instead
he had chosen to put it on a meter three blocks away. There
was no doubt it was deliberate, a ploy to force her to walk
chained in public, albeit secretly. Benson Caldwell seemed to
be enjoying her predicament. The anger returned, but at the
same time Alicia had to admit it felt strange to be walking
through crowds whilst cuffed and helpless. She turned her
eyes towards him and saw his face flushed with excitement.
Benson was really having fun at her expense. Rich bitch in
chains she supposed. Yet despite the anger and her manacled
helplessness she somehow felt safe with him alongside. That
indefinable quality of latent power he possessed was becoming
a physical thing in her mind.

Reaching the car ended the turmoil in her mind, at least for
the present and accepting the opened front door as an
invitation, she clambered awkwardly in, Benson climbed in
from the other side and reaching across, he drew out the seat
belt and strapped her in. She couldn't help but notice that the
back of his hand and a forearm spent an inordinate length of
time resting against her fulsome breasts, but refrained from
remarking on it. It wasn't entirely unpleasant and given that
she couldn't raise a hand to brush him off, she allowed herself
to enjoy the contact by rationalizing that it was beyond her
means to repel him.

The journey home was in relative silence. As with the previous
contact, Alicia noticed that Benson's gear changes managed
to dwell on any position that left the back of his hand resting
against her thigh. She could have moved her leg away, but for
some unfathomable reason chose to allow him his little game.

Benson's home proved to be magnificent. It was one of those
cliff hanging palaces that were so popular down in L.A, but
rare up here in the Seattle area. Bush Mountain was
stockbroker territory and anything up there started in the
million dollar bracket and went upwards. Alicia reckoned that
this pad was towards the upper end of the market. even her
own summer home in Oregon couldn’t claim to be on this
level despite her late senator husband’s wealth and position
and the Denyer Berkeley residence was roughly the same.

Alicia wandered around for a while as Benson seemed occupied
in making her room ready and the more she saw of his choice
in decor and furnishings, the more she grew to appreciate his
taste.

“Time to get you unchained slut!”

Alicia swung and glared at him.

“Just a joke Mrs Berkeley; just a joke.”

Her daggering look softened and she stood still as he removed
the cape. Then, after some hesitation designed to tease her
more, he finally unlocked the cuffs and allowed her wrists to
drop free.

The waist chain dropped to the floor and stepping over the
ring of steel links, Alicia rubbed her wrists and then followed
as he led the way to the east wing, With a flamboyant gesture,
he stood to one side and wayed her into the en-suite bedroom
complex, then watched as she looked around with approval. It
was certainly a big step from the 6 x I2 foot cell at the remand
prison. Lavishly upholstered and boasting a carpet that needed
snow shoes to cross; her bedroom was a dream that any woman
would give an arm for. Alicia realized that Benson was still
standing just outside the door waiting. Turning, she gripped
the double doors and swung them closed, fixing him with an
admonishing stare as the gap narrowed. The message was
clear. Benson Caldwell’s territory ended at the doors. She
was slightly unnerved by the look of acceptance, almost smug
in quality. It was a sort of predatorial; - 'I can wait’.

For an hour, Alicia luxuriated in the foaming warmth of the
monstrous sunken bath, water jets and bubbles tickling and
massaging her body and for the first time in weeks, reminded
her of the pleasures of freedom and luxury. There was a knock
at the door and calling out from the bath, she heard Benson
informing her that he was leaving a new set of clothes on the
bed. Half expecting him to appear and leer at her in the bath,
she was surprised to hear him leave, closing the outer bedroom
doors behind him.

She dallied in the soothing warmth of the water a while longer,
running her mind over some of the strange aspects of the whole
custody deal. There was still a wealth of conflicting feelings
about her manacled periods; .. mostly resentment. Yet at the
same time there was something reassuring about the sensation
of security imposed by the restrictions on her limbs.

Climbing out of the bath, she towelled herself down with the
massive fleecy bath towel, then wrapping it around her body,
she ventured out to the bedroom to inspect her new wardrobe.

In the first instance she was surprised to see only one set, not
the choice she expected given the multitude of packages that
Benson arrived at the office with. Seemingly he was going to
choose what she wore and issue new garments as and when he
saw fit. Eagerly she tore open the wrappings and then stood
aghast as the contents came into view.

Boutique! Benson's idea of a boutique seemed to come to a
dead stop at nothing short of a sex shop. The hated whore
outfit she had been forced to wear in order to project an image
was virtually replaced item for item by a lurid plastic coated
Lycra. Mini skirt, boots, waist to bust Basque type blouse that
would lift and enhance her cleavage and even some seamed
net tights. Alicia exploded in self-righteous anger and wrapping
the bath towel tightly around her body she stormed to the
door.

“Caldwell! .. Caldwell! What do you call this crap? Do you
really expect me to wear this cheap junk?”

Benson appeared drink in hand and ducked as a bundled mini
skirt whistled overhead. Calmly he bent and retrieved the item,
then offered it back to her. She refused to accept.

“You lecherous asshole, do you honestly expect me to walk
out like that? You must be out of your mind.”

Benson sipped at his drink and seemed completely unruffled
by her vitriolic outburst.

“Not outside! .. No! I do have a slightly more acceptable
outfit for street appearances, but up here in my home I would
prefer you to wear something shall we say, a little more daring.
And besides, it wasn’t cheap. Think of it as a favour to me for
sticking my neck out to get you out on bail.”

He sipped the drink again and challengingly locked eyes with
her.

Alicia simply fumed in silence looking for an appropriately
scathing answer. Common sense finally overruled her anger.
Despite his seemingly innocent request for a favour, she felt
the underlying threat of the handcuff evidence and a possible
premature return to prison. Eventually she reached out and
snatched the skirt savagely. The door slammed in his face
with a force that threatened to unhinge it.

Benson turned away with a wide grin creasing his features. It
was all working out better than he could ever have expected.
By his reckoning it should have taken a week or more to work
her into a position whereby she would wear that outfit. Now
all he had to do was convince her that she would have to wear
it outside.

Expectantly he settled down on the armchair facing her
bedroom door and waited impatiently. It took her twenty
minutes to don the gear and another fifteen to put on the
gaudy make-up he'd supplied in the bag, but finally the door
swung open and Alicia stepped out.

Benson felt the glass slipping in his hand and quickly gripped
it tighter. The apparition stalking venomously towards him
left him speechless.

“Satisfied, you letching louse?”

Alicia walked straight up to him and stood arms akimbo, legs
spread in a defiant stance. Benson allowed his eyes to roll over
the statuesque figure, now encased in figure hugging PyC
Lycra. The less were powerfully sculpted in those staggering
high heels, thighs firmly encased in nylon mesh. The Basque
nipped her superbly at the waist and uplifted boobs to form a
currying platform of desirable flesh. He looked up to her face
and took in the fulsome scarlet lips, vivid mascara, jet black
enhanced eyebrows and well repaired eyelashes. Gone was the
demure socialite Alicia Berkeley to be replaced by a staggering,
crotch warming, lewdly exhibited tart who look primed for any
self-respecting orgy.

“Very nice Mrs Berkeley. very nice! You have my sincerest
congratulations on the possession of an incredibly desirable
body.”

For a second she flushed with pride, then lashed back at his
obviously lecherous appraisal.

“Huh! .. And you can keep your hands off it!”

Alicia was laying the law down. This far she was prepared to
go for the continued luxury of spending her remand in
comfortable surroundings. But that didn’t extend to selling
off her body. Benson nodded agreement.

“Your wish is my command princess. Want a drink?”

Slightly surprised at his instant acceptance of her conditions,
her demeanour softened and she accepted.

“Gin and tonic, .. with ice.”

Unsure of the next move she watched as he prepared her drink
and came back over.

“Hope you're hungry, I've ordered lobster to be sent up from
my favourite restaurant. I'm not in the mood for cooking or
going out tonight.”

Alicia indicated her liking for that and took the chair opposite
that was offered airily with a wave of his hand.

For a while he just sat staring at her and although she felt a
little self-conscious, she found herself liking the feeling of being
an adored object. After all, his gaze couldn't hurt her; the
violation of her body was a mental thing. That was something
most women experienced in their lives, albeit, not whilst quite
so blatantly revealed and sexually enhanced. There was a knock
at the door and Alicia showed alarm at being seen by the delivery
waiter. A stern cautioning finger wag from Benson
countermanded the automatic rise in preparation for a dash
to the bedroom.

“Stay there and don’t move.”

There was that power again! Almost before she realized what
happened, Alicia found that she’d sunk meekly back into the
chair without a single challenge to his command.

The delivery boy came in and she was aware of furtive glances
flashed in her direction, but as with any good high class
restaurant in this part of town, the staff were selected for their
ability to turn a blind eye to the strange goings on in rich
affluent homes. The man went about his business with
commendable indifference, although Alicia could see his face
flushing with carnal thoughts as his sneaky glances savoured
the tarty exhibitionism of her dress and thrusting bosom.
Finally he was done. Accepting a hefty tip from Benson, the
young man reluctantly made his way out.

“There you are. Made his day didn’t you and not a single
grope from anyone.”

Alicia cast a sarcastic look in his direction, but decided not to
comment. It was difficult to say much whilst she was wrestling
with the inner turmoil caused by such a simple incident. It
was still a mystery to her as to why she had obeyed and even
more a puzzle given the secret enjoyment she'd experienced
under the waiter’s furtive glances. It was obvious he'd classed
her as a cheap pick-up bimbo on hire for the night, yet it gave
her a sort of power over the man.

New and unexplored depths in her personality were flooding
her mind with conflicting thoughts and with such speed that
she found herself unable to rationalize any of the complex
emotions they were breeding. It was unsettling to find that
she had actually enjoyed being ordered to stay seated.

Benson sat down and with the minor interruptions of light
conversation, they both set about devouring the lobster. Later
in a haze of contentment and feeling slightly light headed from
the wine; supplemented by an excellent liqueur, Alicia suddenly
realized that her self-consciousness over the style of the clothing
was waning. Watching her host carefully, she detected not so
much a lustful stare, but more an appreciative appraisal of
something he found pleasant to look at. Alicia wasn't quite
sure about being regarded as something of an ornamental
nature, but it wasn’t entirely an unpleasant sensation. The
evening dragged on and gaining confidence at the lack of
physical contact by her host, she began to relax and in fact
enjoyed flaunting her sexuality. There was much leg crossing
and uncrossing and plenty of nylon rustling as a result, so that
Alicia found herself gently sinking into the role of a sex mad
whore touting for work. Benson remained strangely undrawn
by the performance and she found that irksome in the extreme.
Secretly she was hoping he would rise to the bait so as to give
her the opportunity to reject any advance on his part.
Annoyingly he declined to give her the opportunity.

It was late. Benson stretched and indicated it was time for
bed.

“You best go in and get that gear off and hop into bed, I'll
come in later."

Alicia sat bolt upright, her hackles rising as the bait appeared
to be taken.

“You damned well won't. We had a deal.”

Benson smiled.

“Not to sleep with you, to make sure you're secure. I'm not
haying you doing a moonlight flit during the night.”

Alicia’s face was a picture of disbelief.

“You mean you're going to chain me up again?"

Benson nodded.

“In a way, but nothing elaborate. Wait and see.”

Alicia glared at him as if about to object, but seeing the
uncompromising return gaze, she felt that indefinable force
compelling her to accept his will. She rose and sauntered to
the bedroom, acutely conscious of the eyes feasting on her
tight mini skirted rump, but without comment, continued and
closed the door after her.

Benson allowed her twenty minutes and then knocked before
entering.

Alicia was already in bed and the covers drawn up to cover her
nudity. Her custodian hadn't seen fit to include night clothes
in the purchases, but perhaps that was an oversight. She
watched with some trepidation as he approached and then saw
him stoop and reach under the bed. His hand emerged with a
steel collar and an attached chain.

“You’re not putting that on me. What do you think I am
some sort of dog?”

Benson smiled, but it wasn’t the normal sort of smile, more a
sort of confident acceptance of her final capitulation to his
will.

“I’m not putting it on: .. You are!'

There was a stalemated silence as the two of them locked in a
battle of wills. How long it lasted neither of them knew, but
eventually Alicia reached out and took the collar. Swinging it
open she offered it to her throat, never once breaking eye
contact as she eased the cool unbreakable steel around her
neck and re-closed it. There was a hesitation as the two ends
met and she made a last ditch stand and defiantly refused to
take the final step. But Caldwell’s unflinching stare won the
day. A soft click sounded as Alicia pressed home the self-locking
fastener and committed herself to enforced occupancy of the
bed.

That single incident was to prove a milestone in their
relationship, but one that only became apparent as the weeks
rolled by. In effect, Alicia had committed herself to his keeping:
although she knew that a complaint about her treatment would
have been received sympathetically in any court. Chaining
her to a bed was beyond the pale. Simply locking the door to
a room that had a two hundred foot drop outside the window
would have been more than sufficient to comply with the terms
of bail. Only later did it occur to her that the collar connected
to the bed must have been pre-arranged. Benson clearly
planned for the event and she had been neatly maneuvered
into going along with it.

As the days and weeks progressed, Alicia found herself acceding
to more and more of his blatantly sexist requests. First it was
black latex nickers, then a latex peep-hole bra. The wearing
of an ornamental studded leather collar became her first publicly
visible attire. It was ornamental at first glance, but a closer
inspection would have revealed that it was an extremely
serviceable collar that was secured into place by hidden locks.
She wore it from dawn to dusk, her throat only free of restraint
at the time of change from daytime apparel to her steel bed
restraint.

It was the first permanent reminder that she had allowed herself
to be mentally subdued; but time healed the sting of self
condemnation as she learned to accept his forceful aura.

The knickers strangely excited her, especially when they were
in public, or when a client was at the office. It wasn't just the
feel of the things, which she had to admit was sensuous. It
seemed more dependent upon the risks of being discovered
wearing such blatantly kinky underwear. The peep-hole bra
had a far more devastating effect in that it pressurized her
breasts into throbbing cones and forced the daggering nipples
into direct contact with the slithering material of the blouses
he chose for her. Nipples rubbing on satin were difficult to
ignore.

Walking out with the cape whilst securely manacled and cuffed
became second nature and hardly entered her thoughts these
days as she was prepared. In fact, the addition of some thigh
hobbles for added security hardly raised a questioning eyebrow
when Benson gave a patently transparent excuse that he was
concerned she might make a break for it. His excuse was that 
as the trial date approached, she might panic under the
mounting stress. He didn't bother to tell her that the
prosecution case was crumbling on a daily basis. More glaring
loopholes in their evidence were making a successful conviction
look like a forlorn hope. Eddie Pasco was still at work and
uncovering more by the day. The prosecution didn’t know of
course, or else it could well already have transpired that they
had withdrawn the charges and released her from bail.

The trial date was set for July 26th. That was some four months
hence. Ample time for Benson to complete his original
mandate, despite the somewhat traumatic interruption created
by his partner returning from LA.

Alicia listened from the outer office as raised angry voices
penetrated the thick oak. She would have moved away to
avoid being accused of eavesdropping, but with her ankles
manacled tightly together and connected to a ring-bolt screwed
into the knee hole of the desk, that was impossible.

“Just what the hell were you thinking of you moron?”

It was Alan in a furious rage.

“How on earth could you even consider putting the firm at
risk like that? I mean, are we going to have every client we
represent walking around the place in chains. Christ man
have you gone completely nuts?”

Benson's voice, calm and reasoning came back.

“Alan, I hear what you're saying; but this is something special.
That woman is innocent, I'm sure of it. I just couldn't stand
to see her suffering in that remand centre hell hole. Be
reasonable Alan. She’s not a slag from a downtown whore
house. This is a class woman. The cultural shock of slinging
her in prison for any length of time could affect her for the
rest of her life.”

Alan’s response was somewhat skeptical.

“Huh! Not a downtown slag? So what do you do? You dress
her up like a cheap tart and decorate the office with her. I
mean, just what the hell are you playing at?”

Alicia listened as he explained the strategy that was then
followed up by a half hour or so of verbal slanging as the door
rattled with the continuing battle. It seemed a deadlock. That
is until Alan ordered that she be returned to the remand centre
and the company released from the bail obligation. Alicia felt
her body go cold as there was a foreboding silence. Then she
heard Benson speaking softly.

“She goes, I go! It’s your choice Alan. You know I never
bluff, so think it over carefully. If I go, the Addison-Martle
account goes with me. They are my clients and they'll follow
me if I leave. Myson-Bennett minus Caldwell equals Myson-
Bennett twelve million bucks a year down the tubes.”

Alicia jumped visibly as the door flew open and a red faced
Alan strode past, not even bothering to cast her a glance as he
stormed out and slammed the outer door. Shaken by the
ferocity of the argument Alicia turned her pale face towards
the inner office as Benson appeared. He just smiled and held
up a thumb and forefinger in a ring.

“Sit tight sweet cheeks, you're safe.”

Alicia flushed with embarrassment as he used the familiar term
he'd recently adopted. Nervously .. a slight smile twitching at
her lips, she answered him.

“I can hardly do anything other than to sit tight whilst I'm
chained to this desk, now can I?”

Benson nodded approvingly.

“Only way to keep a woman like you. Chained and under
control.”

Alicia felt her colour rising to a scarlet. It was an oddly
satisfying sensation to be referred to as a kept object. She
said nothing and sensing that perhaps the time was right to
proceed further, Benson walked over and cupped her chin gently
with his warm palm. He lifted her face up to his daze and
fixed his piercing eyes on hers.

“In fact, given that the stress is rising I think we'd better look
into making you a bit more secure hadn't we?"

Her eyes flashed a momentary rebellion at the suggestion as
she reverted to type; then it was gone and she sat silently and
averted her eyes sooner than challenge his authority.

“The eye-shade and lipstick are a bit sparse today Alicia, better
refresh it now. I wouldn't want the image to fade after all this
effort.”

He watched as she fished her handbag from under the desk
then stayed her hand as she made to withdraw a pastel shade
of lipstick.

“No! Not that one; .. use this!”

He lifted out the bright scarlet stick he had brought with the
Original cosmetics and clothing. Alicia took the offered lipstick
and without looking up held up a hand mirror and began to
coat her sensuous mouth with the tawdry stick of lip paint.

Benson voiced yet another ill-disguised order as she worked.
“Put the gloss on after as well will you. I like the gloss effect.”

With that he turned and left her to finish, returning some ten
minutes later to study the result. He looked her carefully over
before making comment.

“That's Letter. Next time I don't want to have to remind you.

That is what I want and that is what I'll have, or else it will be
the worse for you.”

Alicia opened her mouth to protest, then found herself wilting
as his eyes narrowed. He was daring her to object. She Ei
and went back to the file she was working on without so much
as whimper.


Chapter Four

Conditioning

Alan didn’t return that day, so when Benson closed the office
as normal, Alicia found herself strolling through the park with
Caldwell at her side. His forays into public life with her chained
and helpless were becoming more extended and more daring
by the day. If nobody was around, he would often remove the
cape and leave her fully exposed to the risk of public scrutiny
in one of her mushrooming collection of kinky outfits, chained
and thigh hobbled as they walked along.

Secretly, Alicia knew the day would come when he no longer
bothered to re-cape her at the approach of a stranger. It was
just a matter of time. What bothered her was that she found
herself actually looking forward to that moment. Her
admission to feelings of pleasure at the prospect of such a
public display could only mean one thing. She no longer had
a fear of being seen as an owned object of male desire. Try as
she might, Alicia couldn't isolate the moment or event when
her outlook had changed. Not that it really mattered. It was
just a self-analysis that would have been nice to unravel.

They arrived home after an extended walk taking in the park
and shopping centres that even included a trip to a bar. Caped
as she was, it was pretty obvious that Benson's explanation
that she had paralyzed arms was greeted with some skepticism
by the clientele and especially a street wise barman. He supplied
a straw with a knowing wink that had her flushing with
embarrassment and watched with interest as Alicia bent forward
to take the straw into her mouth. His grin widened as the
faint chinks of steel links sounded from beneath the cape.

Once they were home and Alicia stripped of her cape, Benson
kept her chained for most of the evening, despite the fact that
he still restricted any personal contact to fleeting touches. She
sensed that the time had come for her to be further
indoctrinated. Alicia was very astute in that respect.

“Winter's coming on sweet cheeks, so I thought it was time
for you to start wearing some night wear."

Alicia looked up from the television.

“What night-wear?”

Her voice was tinged with suspicion.

“Ohl! just something I picked up at the local boutique; but
don’t worry, you'll not be naked. In fact it covers you from
neck to ankles.”

Still not convinced she pressed him for more information.

“Well actually it’s a catsuit. I like cat suits, they show off a
woman's shape so well.”

Alicia considered that. It seemed no big deal. After all, most
of her daytime apparel these days showed off more of her body
than a catsuit would.

“OK, so let's go to it. I'm ready for bed now; .. to sleep.”

She paused as he held up a hand to stay her impatience.

I forgot to mention, it’s a rubber catsuit and I'll have to help
you put it on.”

Alicia thought about that for a while. It would mean her being
naked for the first time in front of him; although she knew he
had spotted her nude reflection in the bathroom mirror on
more than one occasion when he was in her room. It seemed
a reasonable request and after all, he never actually abused the
privileged of having her helpless and at his mercy.

“Fine! So let's do it if that’s what you want.”

She tried to turn it into her doing him a favour, but the fact
that she was secretly excited at the idea robbed her voice of
conviction.

“Just one other thing. This is a spectacular suit and I'd like it
to be a surprise. I'd like you to only see it for the first time
after it's on.”

Alicia looked at him as if he was mad.

“What do you suggest. Shall I leave the room whilst you put
it on me?”

Benson laughed.

“Touché! No, I'm suggesting you wear a blindfold until we
get it on.”

Alicia shrugged and rose, helped by his warm hand lifting her
arm as she struggled with the confinement of her shackles.

"I suppose I'll still be chained to the bed as well?”

Benson's grin widened as he nodded.

“But of course sweet cheeks, but of course.”

He led her to the bedroom and after releasing her chains,
watched without expression as she nervously eased herself out
of the tight confines of her day wear, Finally, somewhat self
consciously she cupped and covered her breasts with nervous
hands and turned to face him.

“Come on then, let’s get this thing on before I freeze to death.”

Caldwell saw through the blustering and could sense her fight
against the natural feeling of arousal whilst facing a man, naked
and vulnerable.

Benson offered her a lace trimmed sleeping mask and after a
final glance at him for reassurance that his intentions were
honourable, she slipped it on and adjusted it to fit snugly over
her eyes. Benson's gaze immediately latched onto the stiff
erect nipples that betrayed her arousal, but somehow he
managed to overcome the urge to reach out and roll them in
is fingers. Alicia must have sensed his temptation and her
hands returned to shield the traitorous nodules from view.

She stood trembling slightly with a mixture of trepidation and
excitement, wondering how the hell she had allowed this
relationship to develop to a point where she was going to be
sheathed in a rubber catsuit. Her thoughts were interrupted
as he sprinkled a light dusting of powder on her body and
asked her to smooth it around. The fact that he didn’t do it
himself gave her confidence.

A hand lifted her foot. Shifting her weight she balanced and
used his shoulder for a steady as he began to work the suit up
her leg. First one leg, and then the other, working alternately.
At thigh height he enlisted her help. Between them and with
the room echoing to the sound of rubber snapping against
skin; squeaking as overlaps still to be pulled out meshed layer
on layer, they struggled and stretched; gradually working the
thing up over the swell of her rump and the rest of her body.

For the first time since being released into to his custody, Alicia
felt his hands in full contact with her body, yet it was still a
respectful non-sexual kind of touch.

She trembled as he stretched and smoothed the cloying material
to a wrinkle free fit, then felt him stretching and pulling behind
as he eased the rear zipper up to her neck.

The hands withdrew and flexing her body, Alicia accustomed
herself to the strange feel of her first total enclosure in rubber.
Her hand reached up to remove the blindfold, but he stayed
her movement.

“No! Not yet. Just bear with me a while longer.”

She felt herself moved to the bed and laid down. He took
great care to position her centrally and then pulled her legs
out straight and wide-spread. Instinctively she quickly drew
them together as an auto-protective response.

"Trust me sweet cheeks, trust me. Anyway, what the hell can
I do when you're sealed up in rubber and completely hidden
from view?”

Alicia relented her natural aversion to being opened up and
relaxed her clenched thighs, allowing him to draw them out.
Steel encircled her left ankle and clicked shut, then her right
was stretched out and secured to the opposite side of the
bed.

She felt a surge of adrenaline as an unseen male completed
the spread of her legs and left her positioned and vulnerable.
His hand gently gripped a wrist and she resisted slightly, then
allowed him to continue. A manacle secured it above and to
One corner, then her other wrist mated with a waiting cuff at
His opposite side. She felt his weight lift from the bed and
could hear him moving around her, no doubt savouring the
sight of her body spread-eagled and helpless. Impatiently she
moved her head from side to side.

“Take this thing off will you. You’ve got the suit on, now let
me see.

Her answer was something clicking and before she realized
what it was she found herself being stretched out tautly as the
manacles receded. The earlier realization that Benson was
pre-planning every move returned to haunt her. The device he
was using to pull her taut definitely wasn't there before; so
he'd obviously had it fitted whilst they were at the office,
knowing that she would go along with his suggestions. The
inexorable retreat of her manacles finally ended when she was
stretched tautly and offered like a star-fish.

Fingers ripped the blindfold and light shafted in as it was
slipped clear of her head. Alicia blinked as the light directly
overhead blinded her momentarily, then turned to look as he
carried over a large dressing mirror.

Her body stiffened in shock as the image swam into view. It
was a rubber catsuit all right; a completely transparent rubber
catsuit of diaphanously thin latex that displayed her entire
body in a way as to be far more revealing than simple nudity.
There wasn't a single wrinkle or fold to afford her any modicum
of privacy. A coal of clear varnish or baby oil would probably
have hidden more. Rising above the platform of her body
were the two perfectly sculpted hemispheres of her fully
developed breasts. Lower down, the prominence of her mons
and pubic bone formed a third inviting item of topography.
Secretly she had to admit that even from her supine position,
the silhouette view looked superb, but she managed to conceal
her pride as she lashed out at Benson with her vitriolic tongue.

“You treacherous evil bastard. You knew I'd never have agreed
if you'd told me in the first place.”

She glared at his self-congratulatory smirk and jerked against
the restraining cuffs.

“Let me out of this immediately.”

Panic was welling up in her form and she strained mightily at
the manacles. She knew she had to reverse this mistake quickly
or else all was lost.

Despite her outward condemnation of this blatant abuse of
her trust, she could feel the first undeniable pangs of a powerful
arousal in her wide spread crotch. Already there were the moist
sensations of a betrayal in her rapidly swelling labial lips and
with horror, she saw him watching her revealed charms intently.
The damning realization that he could already see the liquid
evidence of her capitulation to the pleasures of the flesh left
her gasping with a turmoil of contradictions. There was no
way she could hide the truth any longer. This second skin of
see through rubber was destined to soon become awash with
the horribly unsolicited outpourings of her treacherous pussy.

She craned her neck as he walked out of view and then struggled
valiantly as the bed began to move. Silent-glide castors made
his task easy and using the bed like a hospital gurney, he
bulldozed the twin bedroom doors open and pushed Alicia
across the lounge to his own room. By now she was becoming
rather agitated and when he parked her bed less than a foot
from his own king sized extravaganza, she was positively frantic
in her efforts to escape. Her voice relayed her considerable
disquiet at the unfolding drama over which she had no control.

“That's enough Caldwell, you’ve gone too far. You dare to
touch me and I'll have you jailed for rape."

The tremor in her voice informed him that she'd already figured
out that the flimsy rubber sheath sealing her love lips offered
no real protection at all. Benson watched for a while as her
movements became more frenzied with each passing minute.


ILLUSTRATION 1


He sat at the edge of her bed and reached out; placing a hand
on her shoulder as he pushed her straining form gently back
down.

“Easy! Easy! No one is going to rape you; certainly not me.”

Alicia eyed him with obvious distrust, but calmed slightly at
the comforting yet insistent tone of his voice.

“I just like looking at you and I'm certainly going to enjoying
sleeping alongside you with the knowledge or your being there
all offered and available like a latex covered Barbie doll.” His
gaze wandered across her superbly displayed form, halting as it
reached the splayed crotch region. “And it would appear that
you’re not finding the situation entirely without merit.”

Alicia did the only thing she could and turned her face away as
an involuntary muscle reaction of her thighs highlighted the
full embarrassing details of her visible arousal. Flexing with a
slithering well lubricated movement inside the rubber, her flesh
oozed and pulsated inside the suit and the slippery lips of her
labia imitated a sensuous mouth kissing a glass pane. Benson
was viewing the kiss from the other side of the pane, or in this
case, the sensuously pliable latex. He felt his manhood
throbbing at the sight of luxuriant love lips apparently blowing
him a kiss. The copious juices of her unstoppable arousal
were coating her nether regions with indisputable proof of her
shameful acceptance of a descent to the level of a voyeuristic
toy.

Eventually she plucked up the courage to face him, turning
her face towards him only to find that he had gone; leaving
her stretched and offered for viewing to any who cared to look.

At regular intervals he returned. never to speak, but simply
to plunder her with his wandering eyes and each time her pussy
betrayed her with an involuntary slithering invitation. The
seeping evidence of her arousal was insidiously working its way
around and adding to the sweat created by a continual struggle
for freedom. Alicia was being marinated by a liquid sea of her
own making. It was a vicious circle of cause and event. Even
if she lay still and tried to control the sticky viscous outpourings
of her crotch, the slithering suit continued to tease and provide
her captor with a voyeuristic treat. Every breath dragged
sensuous fingers of resilient latex across the hardened kernels
of her nipples. Each tensing of her legs against the spread of
the chains sawed lubricated rubber deeper into her throbbing
sex. And still he returned to mock her weakness as she slowly
succumbed to the inevitable triumph of the flesh. At first it
had been a fight to resist; then a compromise as she consoled
herself with thoughts that it was beyond her control. Each
returning visit by Caldwell conspired to rob her of even that
small comfort as she found herself progressively yearning for
him to come back and feast on her spread display more and
more.

Flushed with embarrassment at her wanton lust and glowing
with the burgeoning blood pressure of desire, she greeted his
arrivals with barely suppressed panting breath, almost urging
him to take the final step and take her as she was.

Benson looked on with undisguised pleasure as his client
continued the downward spiral of self-destruction. It pleased
him to see her slowly simmering in the heat of her own arousal.

As if making a decision, he left her and went for a shower.
She could hear the water splashing and tried to imagine his
glistening soap flecked naked body. The urgent need in her
swollen pussy grew, but here was no release from the awful
ache of denial. The bathroom door opened!

Torn between her needs and the tiny shred of her former self
that was still intact and fighting to be heard, she swivelled her
eyes as he appeared. He was wrapped in a towel that did nothing
to hide the firm muscular frame of his upper body or the
powerful line of athletic legs. Her need crushed the tiny voice
of caution into oblivion and she pleaded with her eyes.

Benson merely grinned down at her, then dropped the towel
and pulled on a pair of jockey shorts, grinning as she eyed the
massive erection with a look that yearned to have the male
monster thrusting deeply into her helpless body. He gave 
her a final glance and then climbed into his own bed as she
watched incredulously.

“Caldwell! What the hell are you doing? For God's sake either
take me or let me go.”

The shadowy figure turned back over to face her.

“Take you! Did I hear you ask me to take you Mrs Berkeley?”

Alicia almost screamed in frustration.

“You're damned right you did you sadistic asshole. For Christ's
sake screw me! Either finish what you started or let me go.”

The old Alicia had reared its head yet again; demanding,
ordering, expecting service on demand. It was a paradox in
that her voice was strong and commanding, whereas her body
displayed a sensuous undulation that was designed to entice
him to take her.

“Sorry sweet cheeks. Not tonight and certainly not when you
demand it. Besides it would be unethical for an attorney to
take advantage of his client.”

Alicia felt her body exploding with desire as he verbally jousted
with her.

“Screw me now or else I'll make sure you don’t sleep a wink
tonight. So help me God, I'll scream the place down!”

Her voice trailed off and she felt a flash of fear as he threw the
bedclothes to one side and rose quickly. A second later he was
standing over her with a determined look on his face. It wasn't
the look of a man about to have sex with a desirable woman,
but the look one associated with a man determined to have his
way.

“Open your mouth! .. I said open it!"

Alicia clamped her teeth as a ball with a strap came into view.
His voice dropped an octave and became almost menacing.

“Open your mouth Alicia: Allow me to gag you.”

Alicia felt her insides turning to mush as that powerful presence
returned to his manner and meekly, hardly knowing why, she
opened her mouth. Instantly as the ball was jammed in she
felt a massive surge of erotic heat in her denied love mound.
It was a confusing mental dilemma that refused to be
deciphered. The strap pulled tight and she felt her mouth
squeezed tightly around the silencing bulk as her emotions
ran riot.

She didn’t want to be dragged, yet at the same time, being
gagged was firing her to even higher levels. She wanted to be
taken and again the denial and silencing was even more exciting.
It was a maelstrom of contradiction that left her weak with
frustration. He spied her quivering clitoris pressed tightly
against the latex and flicked it powerfully with a finger nail.
Alicia jerked and emitted a gasp as a searing bolt of pure
pleasure ripped through her fettered form. It was his first
genuinely sexual contact, fleeting as it was.


ILLUSTRATION 2

Mewing pitifully she watched as he returned to bed and switched
off the light. The bulge in his shorts confirmed that he
desperately wanted her and yet he refrained from taking her
even when offered.

A voice cut through the darkness and stilled her stifled pleas
for fulfilment.

“Alicia, be quiet. If you don’t shut up and stay quiet I'll not
chain you again.”

In the darkness and ensuing shocked silence Benson held his
breath. He was playing a trump card and praying that his
timing was right. Over on the other bed there was silence as
his words and all the implications sank in.

A suppressed moan wafted across to him and he heard the bed
creak with a sort of rapid shuddering sound. A feeling of
elation washed over him as he realized he'd guessed it right.

Alicia had just experienced a massive orgasm as a result of his
abuse and denial and her body was quivering with the orgasmic
strain against the fetters. It was the final trigger she'd needed
and yet even in her throes of ecstasy, she managed to subdue
the sounds of sexual rapture and avoid implementation of his
threat. Stage two was complete and with all things considered,
Benson reckoned it was a roaring success. He lay listening to
the rustle of stressed latex as she endured several more
uncontrollable eruptions, then slipped into a contented sleep.


Chapter Five

Latex Lingerie

Caldwell awoke at dawn and for a while lay quietly, forgetting
that he now had a roommate. Suddenly the images of the
previous evening flashed back and he sat up and looked across
to the other bed.

Alicia lay resplendent in all her glory, shafts of golden light
flashing from her sheathed body as the early morning sun
bathed her in a warm inviting glow and rebounded from the
constantly moving surface. She was wide awake; watching
him and yet silent as requested. No doubt she had awoken
sometime before himself, yet refrained from making sounds
that would rouse him and end her stretched captivity. It was a
good sign.

“Morning sweet cheeks. Did you have fun last night?”

Her pretty face flushed and she looked away. Benson rose and
crossing to the bed, he gently turned her face back towards
him.

“Come on don’t be bashful. Tell me, was it good?”

Alicia looked straight at him for a second or two, then managed
an almost imperceptible nod of her head. She was embarrassed
to admit it, but it had probably been the most spectacular
sexual experience of her life. And that left her even more
confused. Caldwell smiled down at her.

“Good! I'm really pleased. Now all you have to learn is to
trust me implicitly and that will be the first of many.”

Benson's hand reached out and she felt the cuffs being released.
He shifted down lower and as her ankles were being freed Alicia
moved her arms to ease the ache of a long held position. Benson
unstrapped the gag and prised it out, then started to rise. Jaws
stiff and unable to form a proper word, Alicia made a noise
and then gestured to the zipper on her back.

“No! .. Not the suit sweet cheeks. That stays on today. If you
need to do to the toilet there's a small opening in the crotch
held together by a very neat piece of velcro.”

He grinned broadly as the implications of that sank in and
Alicia suddenly realized that he could have taken her at any
time and there wasn’t even the need to cut the suit.

Conversation at breakfast was minimal. Benson seemed
content to let her think everything over and Alicia was at a
loss for words to explain her capitulation to the sins of the
flesh the night before. It was only after being in his presence
for more than an hour that it dawned on her: she was still
effectively naked inside the see through suit. Benson saw her
question forming and nipped it in the bud.

“Not today sweet cheeks, but that’s not to say a public showing
in that suit won't happen soon. Today you can wear it all day,
but underneath the day clothes.”

Alicia didn’t know whether she was relieved or peeved. The
thought of going out like this both frightened and excited her
in ways she would never have dreamed possible only a few short
weeks before.

Half an hour later the fear vanished and excitement was in
complete control. With a one piece dress of tight Lycra covering
her from neck to upper thigh and a pair of fairly standard high
sheen stockings, her rubber underlay was effectively concealed.
Anyone fortunate enough to peer up her dress would
immediately be treated to a semi naked view of her latex sculpted
pussy. Panties it seemed, were a thing of the past. Almost
eagerly, Alicia offered her wrists for manacling and stood
unresisting as he connected them to her waist and locked her
up. The fitting of the standard thigh hobbles produced a
tremble of anticipation from his client. Alicia was thinking to
herself that only a few weeks ago she would have been screaming
rape had a man dared to fumble about under her skirt; yet here
she was, calmly accepting a pair of male hands only inches
from her rapidly moistening mons.

Caped and ready to go, Alicia moved to the door and almost
gasped out loud as a new, unexpected, sensation surged through
her body. Ultra sensitized by the clinging rubber sheath, she
discovered that the movement of ordinary clothes against her
secondary sheathing ; produced a whole new dimension to
movement. Cloth flowing around her latex encased thighs
sent vibrant messages to her receptive crotch, whilst daggering
nipples encased in their mini condoms of rubber were tantalized
and titillated by the strange almost remote friction of the Lycra
dress. Her breasts seemed to swell with reaction and she could
feel the increasing tension as the sleek latex confinement
stretched and moulded her thrusting boobs to melon shaped
perfection. Even a layer of latex and another of clothes couldn't
disguise the daggering nipple tips betraying her arousal.

She was pleased when Benson left the car downtown and
decided that being a nice Crisp ns they should walk to
the office. A hand invaded the pocket slot in the cape as they
walked side by side and Alicia felt her skirt being hitched up.

A large warm palm cupped her rubber sheathed buttock and
squeezed. Unthinkingly, she reacted automatically with a sharp
angry body movement.

“Pack that up right now, or else - - !” Alicia stopped and
turned on him, her old self exerting the remaining shreds of
her self-control in a last ditch battle that she knew was already
lost. The unspoken threat blazed from her eyes, but Benson
challenged her immediately.

“Or else what? Either I get to fondle your sweet ass, or I'll
take the cape off right here and now. I advise you not to
tempt me. I might just accidentally take the dress off too.”

Alicia’s eyes challenged him.

“You wouldn't dare.”

He looked at her a second or two, his hand still through the
slot, but not in contact.

“On the other hand I could just drop these in to the Police
and tell them where I got them.”

His other hand withdrew a set of handcuffs in a plastic bag
from the pocket of his jacket. Alicia blanched. The white
powder clearly showed they had been fingerprinted.

“Yours I believe? .. From the apartment.”

Eyes widened and face blanched with fear she searched his
face for a sign that he was joking.

“You wouldn’t—! Would you?”

It was a question that he left unanswered. Partly because he
wouldn't carry out the threat and partly because he couldn't.
The cuffs were recently purchased from a bondage emporium
and the dusted prints carefully added and highlighted by talcum
powder were his own. It was a convincing prop if one didn’t
question it to closely. Benson squeezed her latex sheathed
butt forcefully.

“Shall we continue?”

Alicia hesitated, then began to walk on as his hand returned
and savoured a handful of finger compressed buttock flesh
that was flexing delightfully. Tears formed in her eyes she felt
her sumptuously curvaceous bottom being mauled whist she
walked in public. Benson saw the wetness of eye and jumped
to the wrong conclusion. In his mind he was convinced that
she was mortified at being forced to accept his abuse by evidence
that could send her to prison for a long time. In fact, Alicia
was really crying from frustration as the exciting prospect of
being stripped down to her see through suit in public was
negated by the appearance of the cuffs. Had he waited a second
longer before bringing them out, she would have called his
bluff. The mere thought of standing on that crowded street
chained, hobbled and encased in transparent latex fuelled a
furnace in her crotch.

Block after block they pushed through the crowds and all the
time Benson's hand was kneading her active buttocks; playful
fingers teasing and testing in the working crevasse of her bottom
cleft. Alicia could feel the velcro seal leaking the oozing
secretions of her arousal and knew that he was savouring the
sensation of lubricated rubber on smooth female flesh. His
manipulations ensured that the hot viscous fluid was distributed
over the entire area of her mincing rubber sheathed bottom.
Clenching and enhancing the slithering, mincing sensation of
latex confined buttock flesh was almost an involuntary act
that her body undertook as an act of betrayal.

They arrived at the office and as it happened, not a moment
too soon.

Alicia staggered into the empty lift and sagged against the wall
as her body convulsed with u unstoppable paroxysms of orgasmic
eruption. Benson's hand remained in her bottom cleft and
enjoyed the massive contractions of her spasming rump
muscles.

Breathless and slowly recovering she vaguely heard the ding of
the floor bell and felt Benson easing her out of the lift. Only
then as she walked the corridor to the office did the realization
of her change in status become clear. A wide eyed office girl
from another company stepped aside and stared boggled eyed
as they approached. Benson had slipped off the cape as he
removed his hand; no doubt whilst she was diverted by the
lingering effects of an all-consuming orgasm. Her manacled
plight was clearly on view. It was the first time since the court
that she'd suffered the humiliation of public exposure in her
disabled condition. A searing heat instantly re-ignited her
crotch, only to be quelled as she realized that she was still
clothed in the dress which was now smoothed down and
covering her latex sheathed buttocks. The girl's reaction was
purely as a result of her wrist chains. even the thigh hobbles
were out of sight.

It was almost an unbearable disappointment and right then
she knew that she wouldn't be content until her fully visible
kinky rubber form was exposed to public scrutiny as a chained
and controlled object of male fantasy. Alicia felt an irrational
frustration as she was ushered into the private chambers of the
office. Her fantasy was to be put off for another day. She
caught Benson staring at her and knew that he'd correctly
interpreted her feelings this time.

“Not to worry sweet cheeks, the cape stays off when we go
home."

Suddenly she was afraid as her dreams turned partially into
fact, but she refrained from protesting, helped by the resolute
look in his eyes that informed her ‘it was too late to rethink
the decision’.

She spent the whole day suffering alternate pangs of trepidation 
and elation, both increasing inexorably as the clock crawled
towards 4.30. At 4.I5 she was shaking with emotion as the
time of her ordeal drew close. It seemed incredible to believe
that in a few short minutes she would be paraded through the
streets, manacled and waist chained, dressed like a cheap whore.
It did little to ease her pangs of trepidation to realize that the
latex undersheathing would still be their secret.

Benson was less inclined to delay matters and they shut the
office at 4.20.

“Oh! No, not like that.”

Alicia pleaded as he clipped a lead to her waist chain and then
snapped the cuff at the other end around his own wrist. As
she watched he produced a plastic badge card and clipped it to
his belt.

“Court pass! .. Good enough to pass as a cop card. Joe Public
will see us as a cop and an arrested hooker on their way to the
precinct house.”

Alicia shook her head and pulled back. But it was a token
gesture that had no real conviction. Benson's smile widened
as he pandered to her burgeoning sense of adventure.

“Come on, let's do it --!"

She hesitated again and held her ground a while longer. His
manner change abruptly.

“You pull back again and I'll strip you down to the suit and
take you out like a big animated condom.”

For a second Alicia toyed with the idea of going the whole way,
his phraseology was adding to her inexplicable excitement at
the thought of such crushing humiliation. Somehow it
conveyed the ultimate in submission to be displayed as a latex
sheathed phallic female.

But this wasn’t the moment. Sometime in the future she was
sure it would happen. Right now just wasn’t the time. A tiny
spark of her former arrogant pride still flickered deep within
her breast. Alicia longed for it to be snuffed out like a candle
flame, yet was afraid of what that might bring. Her breasts
heaved with emotion and suddenly the clinging latex catsuit
seemed to be shrinking as its malleable containment caressed
her curves. Like a million fingers it was everywhere at once

It seemed only an instant before they were suddenly out on
the payment amongst the throng of a busy rush hour. People
stared, some sniggered and others pointed. Caldwell simply
played the part.

“Move aside there. Police! .. Move aside, there's nothing to
see."

Alicia stumbled behind him, his rapid pace testing the limits
of her thigh hobble to the limits. Catcalls and licentious
remarks bombarded her ears.

“Hey big tits, leave your number in the telephone box, corner
of West and 7th, we’ve got things to discuss when you gel
out.”

“Wow! man get a load of that ass."

"Wowee! I'd give a month’s pay to slip my Frankfurter into
her.”

Crimson with shame and humiliation Alicia followed dog-like
as she was flaunted to the public and Benson seemed to be
enjoying her discomfort. Yet despite the helpless nature of her
plight, Alicia felt alive. Her hele body was tingling with
electric sensation, enhanced to a staggering degree by the
smooth silky action of her hidden catsuit. Whenever he had a 
chance and was shielded by moving people, Caldwell seized on
the chance to goose her butt. Breathless with the heat of her
arousal, Alicia cursed the fact that she had forgone the chance
to take that final plunge. Images of her transparently sheathed
and rubber sculpted form; obscenely exposed and dragged along
in public; were her constant lascivious mental companions as
they reached the second block.

Benson cautioned her to lose the arrogant look she was
acquiring as her confidence grew.

“Look downtrodden sweet cheeks,. Remember, you're a whore
under arrest, not a debutante at an embassy function.”

Alicia hung her head in shame. Tt wasn't hard. His words
brought home the full impact of her fall from a pervious
position of power and grace. She was a whore, a cheap slut.
There was no other explanation that could justify her enjoyment
at being paraded around in a kinky bondage rig.

Torn between the fleeting memories of her recent past and
beckoning temptations is future, Alicia somehow survived
the long trip back home and retained her sanity. Benson wasted
no time once they were in the door. He quickly released and
stripped her down to the suit. Then, before she had time to
react, he refitted the manacles and hobble, and left her chained
to a pillar in the library.

Alicia ached with need. The trip home had resurrected the
fires of lust and fanned them to a furnace. She shouted for
him to return and received only silence in answer. Almost
beside herself with exploding carnal lust she strained at the
cuffs, but found that the movement allowed by the waist chain
cheated her of the final inch that would bring a self-engineered
release. Her fingers clutched frantically, stretching, reaching
out to touch that throbbing mound of rubber sheathed flesh
pulsing so powerfully at the vee of her thighs. Tearfully she
looked down for a way to trigger the eruption, but the sight of
her bulbously sheathed breasts merely added fuel to a
smouldering fire that needed fanning so desperately.

He was gone an hour, returning to find a beaten woman
pleading for release from the torment of her own lustful
conflagration. Her heart sank as Benson denied her the sexual
release she so desperately needed. Alicia understood that it
was all part of her conditioning now. The method was clear
and with it came the realization that he was bound to win in
the end. First he'd awakened sensations she never even dreamed
she possessed. Now he was teaching her the rules. Benson
Caldwell would decide when she could savour the sweet ecstasy
of fulfilment; .. and in return for her obedience he would lead
her along the difficult path of subservience to a world of
exquisite pleasure that, so far, had only existed in her dreams.
That in itself was sufficient to ladle the fierce furnace of
her need.

That night, as with every night from then on, she spent her
sleeping restless hours of darkness offered and sheathed; but
never touched. Not once did he offer the caress that would
release her from torment; a caress that she so desperately craved.
The days passed and her smouldering resentment slowly
change to an acceptance of the inevitable. When it came,
the gift of fulfilment would be at a time of his choosing. There
was no other way.

Her legal plight was all but forgotten in the maelstrom of
capitulation and self-re-appraisal as his control gathered
momentum.

It was only a few days to the trial when a call brought all her
problems back like a haunting apocalypse.

How cruel life was! First she had been shown a new way of
existence; now she was threatened with the loss if the state saw
fit to remove her liberty. A strange paradox in reality. In
order to gain the freedom she craved, she had to give up the
right to liberty to become Benson's toy; his chattel; a mere
plaything for him to use whenever he chose.

And if she gave up her personal liberty to earn her freedom,
the state might still take it away.


Chapter Six

Revelations

Eddie's call came through at precisely 9 am on the 25th of
June, the day preceding the trial. Benson listened avidly, whilst
Alicia tried to overhear from the chained captivity of the outer
office desk.

“You found what?”

His voice rose in excitement as Eddie's voice droned on. even
from her distant viewpoint, Alicia could see that something of
monumental importance had come up.

“Make sure you get it to the trial tomorrow. .. I don’t give a
shit if all flights are booked, hire a private jet; .. do what the
hell you have to, but get him and the tapes here on time. By
the way, did you dig up anything in Vancouver?”

Eddie laughed.

“Nah! Turned out to be a kooky guy who does bondage games
for women; but no intimate relationship at all. Just a sort of
one off fantasy trip for people like Alicia. No connection at
all to her husband, or anything else for that matter. If you
really feel it might be of some use, I did manage to get some
photos of other chicks at this guy's place, all trussed up in
rubber and made to run on a treadmill thing. Seems he wires
them up and makes them hop around a bit as well: then there's
the dildos and tit sucking devices, all manner of really way out
gear."

Benson pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“Don't know if we can use that, but bring anything you can
get anyway; .. and note that guy’s address in case we need him
to testify.”

He neglected to mention that the reference to women in rubber
sparked his libido and nurtured carnal thoughts of arranging
to actually see Alicia running on a treadmill under those
conditions. Pushing the lurid thoughts to the back of his
mind he ended the conversation.

“Well at least that wasn’t bad news. Keep at it Eddie.”

Benson dropped the phone into the cradle and leaned back
against the desk deep in thought. Alicia called through.

“What was that; .. was it good news? What did he find?”

Benson collected his thoughts and put on a serious face as he
rose and walked through to her office.

“No! .. Bad news really. At least it could be if the police had
got to this guy first. Eddie found a guy, a Private Dick’ your
husband Lied in Denyer, who reckons he can place you at the
scene of the crime in the time frame figured out by forensics.
Furthermore he reckons he has a camcorder tape to prove it.”
Alicia's face dropped and Benson turned away to hide his smile.

“That's impossible! I was—-!

She faltered and balked at telling the truth as Benson
interjected.

“You were what?”

Her face flushed as she struggled to recover.

“I was at the apartment relaxing. .. Alone!”

There it was, the same old lie. The difference was, he now
knew exactly what she had been doing.

“Hmm! Well, not to worry; we can squirrel this guy away
somewhere and keep him out of the way. With him out of it
and the cuffs in my safe, they haven't got much of a case.
Mind you, if I were to change my mind you would be going
down for life sweet cheeks: .. 99 years as dyke bait.”

Alicia sat ashen faced as the obvious threat sank in.
Rationalizing it, she felt that there was little chance he would
throw her to the wolves as long as she continued to allow him
to play. The truth be known, she doubted she could have
called a halt to his progressive demands, even if he didn't have
a lever. Her own internal needs were inexorably pushing her
closer to the baffling well of subservience with every passing
day.

The trouble was, just when she was coming to terms with each
level, Benson decided it was time to increase the pressure and
test her further. That evening was no exception.

Arriving at the house after another exhausting journey of stares,
he stripped her down to the suit and left her with her hands
waist manacled.

Pursing his lips he sat down and studied her at length.

“Come here sweet cheeks.”

He pointed to a spot a few feet in front of him and nervously
she moved over.

“No! Not standing; kneeling. Sit on your heels, back straight
and look at me.”


ILLUSTRATION 3


Alicia hesitated, her mouth opening to protest. Then she
thought better of it and sulkily obeyed; albeit awkwardly as a
consequence of the close coupling of her wrists, she finally
managed to settle as he requested.

“Standard slave girl position I suppose?” It was an insolent
tone and she saw annoyance flit across his face.

“Yes it is and from now on you will assume it whenever you are
in my presence unless I tell you otherwise.” Alicia showed
brief rebellion; then her face softened and she accepted his
wishes as Benson continued.

“And furthermore, in future, any show of disobedience will
earn you a spanking.”

He paused, obviously watching for effect. Again a brief flash
of anger, instantly quelled as her barely suppressed alter ego
reasserted control. He decided to push her further.

“So! Seeing as you made an insolent remark, we may as well
start right now. Up you get and put yourself over my lap.”

Alicia's jaw dropped; her face an Image of instant rebellion
that slowly faded as warm pleasant indecipherable feelings stole
through her lower body. It was the same every time. First the
instinct to tell him to go to hell; then the overwhelming desire
to succumb to the raging desires of her lust. The poor woman
was suffering constant conflicting emotions that were tearing
her resolve to shreds.

Lowering her eyes she shuffled over on her knees and leaned
forward. Benson lifted her hips to reposition her, adjusting
the sumptuously curvaceous rump to a perfect position. It
was the first time he'd really touched her and he could feel the
tenseness in her body, deliciously transmitted by the taut vibrant
rubber sheath.


ILLUSTRATION 4


Raising a hand, he brought it firmly down and watched as the
fleshy orbs jostled and jounced. Alicia yelped and jerked, then
settled back.

The hand descended again and this time she managed to quell
the cry and absorb his punishment without audible reaction.
Benson felt his manhood stiffening against her abdomen and
he grinned, knowing that she could feel how she was exciting
him with her acceptance of punishment. The hand began a
steady beat and Alicia's jostling lobes quickly assumed a
delightful red hue. She whimpered and squirmed, but
steadfastly resisted the urge to cry out as his hand set her rump
on fire.

Ashamed and mortified, she felt her pulsing mons flooding
the latex surround with the syrupy liquid of her arousal juices
and knew for sure that it would be seeping through the velcro
seal to give liquid proof that she was capitulating to her lustful
reception of the punishment. Thirty or so heavy blows later,

he checked his hand and told her to get up. Her face streaked
with tears, Alicia slid off and then remembering her pervious
instructions, sank to a kneel in front of her tutor.

“Good! .. very good sweet cheeks. You're learning fast.”

She flashed him a weak forced smile, but he could see that his
praise went far deeper than that.

“I’ve a mind to spank you every night when we get home Alicia,
irrespective of whether you ye been disobedient or not. How
do you feel about that?”

She didn’t answer for a second or two and kept her eyes averted

when she finally did.

“If that’s what you want, I can’t stop you can I?”

Her form trembled slightly and seeing the involuntary
contraction of her lower abdomen, Benson knew that her
acceptance was being engineered by a hugely pleasurable surge
in her crotch. The mere thought of meekly offering herself
for unearned punishment excited her, although he doubted
she would admit that. .. At least not yet!


Chapter Seven

Pre Trial

Benson kept her kneeling till well into the night, then with a
sigh, put down his book and confronted her.

“Time to get you dressed for court sweet cheeks. We won't
have time in the morning.’

Her face registered puzzlement as he pulled her up and led her
into the bedroom The bed already had her court clothes laid
out. Alicia gasped.

“Oh God no! Not in court! .. You can’t be serious?”

The look of determination on his face showed he was deadly
serious.

“Yes! I'm serious. Tomorrow you go to court in that.”

He pointed to the readied garments on the bed.

“If it eases your worry, that is all part of the defence. Trust me
and do as you're told. Remember, get naughty and you go
over my knee again."

Alicia stood pale and shaking as he released her hands and
began to peel the form fitting suit away. The item on the bed
was very similar, but at least it was black in colour and clearly
not a see through version. She thanked God for small mercies.
Thigh length boots, a matching patent leather over corset with
reinforced half breast cups and a powerful looking posture collar
lay nearby.

Her initial fears began to drain away as fitting continued and
by the time she was zipped in she found herself actually feeling
comfortable with the idea. Momentarily her trepidation was
rekindled as she realized that the nipples of her generous breasts
were to be exposed. Her entire chest region would soon become
adorned with two sensuously shaped mounds, oozing extruded
nipples and aureoles like ripe plums ready for picking. Alicia
was already experiencing the returning pangs of arousal as her
figure took on the properties of a seductive rubber effigy; a
perfect male sex toy of staggering potential.

Any trepidation was immediately swamped into obscurity.
Despite her misgivings, the thought or standing in court
wearing this outfit was sending indisputable messages of
pleasure dancing through her groin. It was as she reached
down to fondle herself that another innovation was revealed.
This suit had two holes strategically placed and edged with
rubber rings that gave them a sphincter like quality. Blushing
she pulled back her hand and considered the revelation at
length. Although fully sheathed, she was just as vulnerable as
would be the case if she were naked.

Taken unawares, she grunted loudly as the corset encircled her
from behind, crushing her inwards as Benson began the fitting.
Alicia gasped and braced herself against the pull as he eased
another few inches from the laces and she felt her torso
exploding from either end to form super enhanced rubber
sheathed extravagances of pure femininity. With those tied
off, he quickly snapped single cuffs to each wrist and offered
them up to the corset’s built-in waist connections. It was a
custom designed purpose built costume that didn't require the
use of unsightly waist chains to spoil her lines.


ILLUSTRATION 5


Carefully cut front and back to form a line that cupped under
each breast and with half circle cut-outs shaped to reveal her
latex extruded nipples, the corset effectively offered her breasts
for the taking. At the rear, a daring designer shape swept
upwards across her bottom in a smooth arch so as to enhance
the upper buttock swell into an alluring extravagance of soft
sensuous female rump. The corset transformed her into a
sexually inviting excess of womanhood. Alicia grunted as her
elbows were pulled back and cuffed tightly behind her. As if
they weren't already vulnerable enough, her offered breasts
extended their thrusting display; erupting into firm rubber clad
melons of carnal desirability.

Laces fastened the rear of the corset; but at front, powerful
chrome snap buckles, ten in all, arranged vertically, formed a
polished column that mimicked a stunning steel vertebrae
running from below her breasts to the lower edge of the Basque
resting at the top of her groin. The boots matched with their
chrome lace holes. More chromed waist fittings to accept the
wrist manacles completed the whole image of strong yet
feminine appearance. These manacles, unlike normal thin
police type, were at least an inch wide and instead of a length
of chain, were affixed by a close coupled single link on the
corset.

The boots took some time. With over sixty lace holes, fitting
them tightly and wrinkle free was a demanding task. Finally
he rose, sweating, yet pleased with the final effect. A highly
polished set of hobbles. and a tall posture collar complete the 
outfit.

Benson did his inspection tour and then watched with interest
as Alicia walked stiffly to the mirror and contemplated her
final appearance. The restrictions of the boots, corset and
collar demanded a well-defined stiffly erect strutting movement,
almost arrogant, had it not been for the fact that it was blatantly
designer sexist.


ILLUSTRATION 6


Her face flushed. Not with fear or embarrassment, but with
carnal heat. Towering heels were shaping her calves to
perfection, whilst the rest of her body was sculpted and displayed
in a most provocative manner. She swung around to face
him, her face glowing with anticipation and not a little
trepidation.

“You're really serious about this being part of the defence?”

He could see that she wanted his answer to be yes and he
didn’t disappoint her.

“Deadly serious! That's how you are going to be dressed in
court and no-one can object. It's a vital part of the defence.
Just one final item to test; but you can have that off overnight.”

Benson reached up and jammed a ball gag into her mouth,
cinched it tight and then checked that the strap ran correctly
on her cheeks. He made a noise of approval and then stripped
it back out.

She shook her head in disbelief, then grimaced as she found
the jaw biting reminder of the posture collar unforgiving in
it’s strict control.

“I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe this is all happening.”

Benson smiled. In a way he was happy that she was going to
enjoy it. She needed all the fun she could get to be able to
face the coming day and especially the final crushing of her
rebellious streak.

“Come on, stop prancing around in front of the mirror I have
a proposition to put to you.”

Alicia turned towards him and seeing his eyes narrowing she
suddenly remembered and dropped to her knees. He nodded
approvingly.

“Good! Now stay there, I have things to do. I'll be back for
you shortly.”

Alicia didn't even attempt to argue and humbly accepted her
orders as Benson vanished from her view. After a while she
could hear something heavy being moved to the lounge. Her
curiosity tempted her to sneak over on her knees, but something
held her back. She slowly realized that unconsciously her
mind was be inning to accept his commands without question,
however odd they might seem. It was dawning that whenever
she obeyed, she experienced pleasure; no matter how traumatic
or bizarre his demands were. Pleasure and reward were
powerful training tools that had served mankind over eons of
time. They 3ibed just as well with modern liberated women
like Alicia Berkeley.

Benson reappeared and beckoned her into the lounge. She
rose and followed, eager to see what new game he would ask
her to perform. Her striding gait suddenly slowed as the room
was revealed. Moving slowly to the centre she approached a
weird black ornamental statue with some misgivings. The
thing seemed to be a polished carving fashioned in either ebony
or aged mahogany. It was full scale human height and consisted
of two figures depicting pirates. They were arranged standing
opposed to each other and peering downward with an evil leer.
The space between was like a smooth concave inverted vee,
lightly shaped in the middle. She also noticed many slots
own each side and felt her feelings of apprehension growing.

“What is it? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Caldwell faced up to her with a no nonsense look.

“It’s a stand for strapping a woman over; .. prior to her haying
her brains fucked out.”

He was blunt and to the point and it was intentional. He
wanted to shock her and see the reaction. As it happened he
was pleased with what he saw. Instead of shrinking back, she
studied the stand with increased interest and he could see the
colour rising rapidly in her cheeks. Benson pressed on, sure
of his ground and pushed her tolerance for acceptance of new
experiences to the limit.

“The choice is yours. Tonight may be the last night for us to
get together.”

He didn’t have to spell that one out. The getting together part
had already been graphically mentioned; .. the reference to a
last night hardly needed expanding upon.

“You know what I want, now either you give it of your own
free will or we call the whole thing off: No matter what you
say, it doesn’t alter what I'll do in court tomorrow. Your choice
is simple. I want to screw you here and now; .. and on my
terms. If you chose to let me, just drape yourself forward over
that stand and let me strap you down ready for action. I'm
not giving any guarantees about when you come off. Once
you hand over control to me, that’s it! .. There's no going
back!”

He watched as she hesitated momentarily, her breasts heaving
as the moment of truth was forced upon her. It was really no
contest. The newly discovered powers of her insatiable lust
were impossible to ignore. She gave him one last look of
appraisal, then moved forward and knelt before the stand.
Alicia allowed him to guide her as she wriggled and wormed
into position, then, when she was sure it was right, she lowered
her torso and found herself comfortable nestling in the polished
curvature with her body folded at ninety degrees and her rump
jutting skywards.

Benson wasted no time in readying her for securing; probably
fearful that she may back out. Almost magically Alicia found
heavy duty nylon webbing straps appearing through the base
slots in rapid succession. The straps were passed over her entire
body from ankles to neck and even before they were connected
and tightened she felt the heat of anticipation

The first strap to strenuously initiate her immobilization was
the waist band. Benson threaded it back through the opposing
hole and connected it to something hidden below. In fact it
was a powerful load binder ratchet.

Loud clicks sounded ominously in the quiet room and Alicia
felt her waist being remorselessly pulled down; powerfully
cinched to the base by an irresistible force. The legs followed;
ankles, calves, lower thighs; then an oddly different strap over
her upper thighs. The others seemed to pass straight over and
squeeze her limbs into a single cinched unit. This upper thigh
strap seemed to dive between the thighs, loop through a hoop
in the base and then continue to the other side. She assumed
correctly, that her thighs were encircled individually. He let
that one connected, but loose. The next one passed straight
over the humping curvature of her bottom and like the others
was ratcheted down to a crushing level. Two more encircled
her torso, one at roughly the level of her breasts and the last
passing just below her armpits.

With her wrists freed from the corset manacles her arms were
positioned over her back and after the addition of some sort of
mittens, hauled up to the opposing shoulder blade and secured
by an attached strap that seemed to run over her shoulder and
alongside her neck. Two more torso bands were added to the
originals, although these went over her pinioned arms and
crushed the folded limbs tightly to her back. Benson paused
for a while and checked her over. Then, starting at the ankles,
he steadily moved up her body adjusting each ratchet tighter
until she begged for him to stop. And still the upper thigh
band was left untouched. He arrived at the last shoulder strap
and testing the effectiveness of her banding, Alicia found that
she could hardly move. Alicia was really beginning to enjoy
the whole thing when her world went black.


ILLUSTRATION 7


For a second or two she panicked, then feeling his hands
working on her head, she realized she was being hooded.
Something nudged at her mouth and she obligingly opened
wide to allow the monstrous dildo gag deep into her throat.
The hood drew tight, blinding and stifling her in one operation;
yet allowing her to breath freely through the nose.

Benson again stood back to study the results; then muttering
to himself, he bent down to finish the job.

“Here we go sweet cheeks. Now we go for the real bondage
and you're not going to like this one little bit, but it's too late
to go back now.”

He put the ratchets to work again, ignoring her keening
entreaties; .. mercilessly, systematically, cinching her tighter
and tighter; crushing her down into the unyielding hardness
of the base and reducing her bound body to rigid unyielding
vulnerability. This time the upper thigh bands were attended
to, and as the ratchets sounded through her hood, Alicia felt
her thighs being compressed and cinched down; but at the
same time, forced apart, as the separate risers from the centre
hoop created a force that pulled down and out. Her deeply
concealed pussy was steadily revealed as her fleshy rubber
sheathed thighs pulled apart in a forcibly formed tunnel of
separated thigh.

The rump strap seemed to be his favourite and that particular
cinching strap ended up buried deeply into the resilient mounds
of her buttocks. She keened and wailed through the gag, but
it was in vain. He seemed to be judging the tension of each
binder by the depth of indent achieved in her body and the
level of discontent she was able to convey, despite the gag.

Benson simply maintained the increasing compression as he
worked steadily upward, methodically compacting her down
into total compliance. A new band encircled the back of her
neck; but he used the ratchet power with a conscience at this
location. The same applied as he added two over her helmet,
yet despite his cautious tensioning, they were still sufficient to
hold her head stiffly unmoving.

Benson finally stood up and looked down at her superbly
bondaged body. She was a series of unmoving black curvatures;
reduced viciously inward at each banding strap. Like the ebony
figures watching over her, she was frozen into a provocative
vulnerable pose, despite her titanic efforts to reverse her earlier,
somewhat rash decision. Only an erotic frenzied pulsing of
her cinched curves differentiated the bound woman from those
carved lifeless statues.

Caldwell drank in the heady image, considering his choice of
leg configuration. There were two options on the stand, spread
wide, or cinched together as she was now. He was glad he had
chosen the latter. He wanted her superb buttocks tightly
compressed into resilient impotent mounds as he drove into
her on that first glorious entry. He'd waited long and worked
hard for this moment. Now she had offered herself willingly
and he intended to take full advantage. Benson patted her
thrusting, strap bisected bottom, then knelt by her head and
spoke softly as the warm taut rubber female humps responded
with the barest of twitches.

“Being submissive is an art sweet cheeks. It's not just a matter
of submitting without question. It is a matter of submitting
and then play acting the role demanded by your controller.
Now; .. remember the two pirates standing over you and build
the image in your mind. You're a captured princess, the sole
survivor of a galleon sunk by these cut throats. They’re
kidnapped you for their pleasure and right now you're strapped
down on the public fucking stand in the middle of their village.
They're all out there waiting. The womenfolk, mainly old
hags, are baying to see you ravished. They despise you for the
youth they no longer have. There's hundreds of evil smelling
unwashed men; every one of them is going to plunder your
body and there's nothing you can do.”

“Now they're waiting for the Captain to take first honours.
Me! I'm the Captain. .. Imagine the scene. It’s a desert island;
uncharted, unknown by anyone other than the pirates. There's
no hope of rescue; your fate is sealed. They are going to use
you over and over again; .. and you can't move a muscle to
defend yourself. They're even going to oil your pussy so you
can’t resist. Then when they’re ruined you; assuming you
survive, they'll take you to the Arab coast and sell you as whore
for an Arab brothel.”

He paused and listened as her breathing quickened and body
movements became urgent with her straining for release.

“That's it! Let your mind see those leering pirates standing
above lusting after your body. They're going to whip you and
plunder you like a dog.”

Alicia’s nostrils were already snorting as she strove to escape.
She was a natural. The scene was coming alive in her head.

Now all he had to do was let her imagination do the rest.

“I'm leaving you for a while now sweet cheeks; leaving you to
the mercy of those two evil pirate figures. They're right there,
lusting after your body, discussing you like a piece of meat and
you can’t move or defend yourself in any way. You just have to
lay there all tightly trussed up and displayed for as long as they
choose to keep you that way."

He paused and watched as his words took effect.

“When I come back I'll be the Captain and you must fight to
stop me taking you; just like you would in real life. I want to
feel your punny struggles and savour the moment as I take your
pitifully helpless body. You're just a lump of female flesh to
these pirates, all parcelled up and ready to be taken and they
mean to use you in any way the please. You'll be desperately
trying not to succumb to their advances, but it will be a hopeless
task. You'll orgasm time and time again and have no power to
prevent them seeing your downfall. They're going to use you
like a hot squirming ole for their pleasure.”

Rising slowly, he moved away. Already she was mewing and
moaning; her powerfully restrained form was pulsing with
impotised, thoroughly contained energy as she strove to break
free of her bonds. The magic of the mind was working with a
vengeance and he reckoned to give her half an hour to simmer
in the cauldron of her own lurid imagination before he
unleashed the physical battalions of sensation on her offered
body.

Benson forced himself to stay away and to take his mind away
from what was happening. He went to the kitchen and made
some coffee. The minutes ticked by with maddening slowness
and it seemed hours before the time allotted was up. Eagerly
he put down the cup and returned to the lounge.

The stand stood still and unmoving. Not a single item
displayed any movement and yet the muffled screams and
wailing sobs told him that at least one part was a living woman;
a kidnapped frightened woman, desperately fighting to escape
from the awesome vulnerability offered by her bondage. By
now every single nerve-ending in that thrusting cinched bottom
would be quivering with expectant dread. He reached out and
hefted the tawse, then moved purposefully forward. Alicia
imagined she was to be hipped: Her mind would substitute
the braless sting of the tawse with the ravaging bite of a bull
whip. He drew back his arm and flailed down.

The rubber sheathed bottom almost burst free from the
confinement of the straps as it exploded into a frenzy of violent
muscle contractions. Benson's arm stroked again and again
as the room filled with pitifully muted screams and the creak
of overstrained strapping. Alicia was imagining the whip slicing
her creamy virginal flesh to bloody ribbons. The tawse settled
to a steady beat, her latex coated rump giving off exquisitely
satisfying sounds as it absorbed and transmitted the
punishment to her tormented bottom. He gave her forty lashes,
then leaving her sobbing, dropped his trousers and allowed the
rigid shaft of his manhood to spring free. True to his promise,
he oiled her up. Not the stinking whale fat pirates would have
used. It didn't matter. In her mind KY jelly would feel just
the same; a slippery coating that would deny her the last vestige
of defence. In addition, it would enhance the feeling of
vulnerability as it endowed her slick love lips with an acute
sensitivity to the cooling effects of air movement.

Benson straddled her fettered legs and knelt. Instantly her
struggles increased to a maniacal level as she felt the approach
of her imaginary pirate rapist.


ILLUSTRATION 8


On a whim he released her head and throat straps so as to
savour the bobbing head as she struggled to gain release.
Callously he let rip with a raucous filthy laugh; .. at the same
time slapping her buttocks from side to side. Each stinging
contact sent shock waves through the juicy lobes; but the
impacts were delightfully contained by the powerful, deeply
embedded strap and reduced to short violent jerks. He lined
up his bursting manhood, then roughly thrust the aching shaft
into the defenceless opening in her thighs. Toying with her
inability to repel any advance, he prodded the hard bloated
end of his pulsing rod against her slippery love lips in a series
of taunting jabs, then with a final laugh, plunged into her with
a single stroke. As his groin thumped against the writhing
mounds of her buttocks, he could feel her body fighting and
straining. Already she was approaching orgasm and yet still
she managed to find the will to struggle. Outwardly she was
merely pulsing with contained exertion, but deep within her
body he could feel the massive struggles to escape his plundering
shaft.

Alicia exploded into horribly unwanted orgasm time and time
again. He could feel her succulent interior working frantically
on his manhood, suckling and squeezing as her body betrayed
her and capitulated to the hard male sword jerking back and
forth in her love tube.

Until now Benson had managed to maintain control by
concentrating on bringing Alicia to a point of complete
surrender to his invading manhood. Now it was his turn. He
leaned backward whilst maintaining a partial insertion, eyeing
the quivering buttocks with relish. Then, as he moved in an
out of her in short strokes, he resumed his hand slapping
punishment. The big strong rump muscles went into spasm
and Alicia erupted in a continuous display of minute rippling
latex sheathed waves as she exploded into her most violent
orgasm yet, The muted screams of the captive princess
undergoing rape changed to a sobbing groan as she experienced
levels of masochistic pleasure that threatened to warp her mind.
Benson felt his shaft swelling to unprecedented girth and
sensing the approaching apocalypse, he ceased the punishment
and plunged deeply into the hot succulent core of her body.
His ram-rodding manhood literally detonated inside her,
endlessly pumping streams of hot seed into her tightly cinched
and helpless form. No matter how violently he thrust into her
body the bonds held her firm and offered; a solidly contained,
totally vulnerable woman, who had no choice but to accept his
thundering intrusion.

Time after time Benson plunged into her, but she remained
rigidly immobilized, unable to move even a fraction to avoid
the jolting thrusts. Like a sensuously shaped bolster cushion
she simply absorbed all that he could give as he joyfully bounced
on the tautly compacted and rearing lobes of her bottom. He
could feel the lithe athletic thighs striving to close, but the
straps held her open and available; her own smooth limbs
acting as a funnel to direct his rigid vibrating shaft straight
into her ravaged and completely available pussy.

Alicia felt the boiling flood of male seed and helplessly
responded as her body engineered a massive detonation of her
own sensual energy. Unlike her plundering pseudo rapist, she
was unable to dissipate the force of the carnal blast by bodily
movement. She simply pulsed and strained as the colossal
forces imploded, the energy powerfully contained by the cruel
crushing bands that held her so utterly vulnerable, .. so
ruthlessly presented. The ceaseless pounding against the
thrusting stressed cushions of her pressure sculpted bottom
just went on and on as he savoured her complete inability to
prevent him from using her like some sort of sexual trampoline.

Alicia yearned to be able to clamp his massive shaft in her
rearing buttocks, but the straps spitefully maintained her sex
lips and rump opened like the petals of an exotic flower. No
matter how she strained the unbreakable bands refused to allow
even a fraction of clench. Together they writhed and groaned
as the power began to drain away and finally Benson slumped
down to rest on her body.

How long he stayed there drifting in the glorious calm of sexual
fulfilment he would never know. It didn't matter. His latex
sheathed female mattress couldn't move or complain in any
way. Pinioned and sculpted into a motionless form, she was
there to serve for as long as he chose; a convenient warm garage
for his spent manhood, a living breathing sofa to relax on as
he regained his strength. Benson eased in and out, teasing his
manhood and luxuriating in her complete inability to prevent
her body being used as an aid to maintaining the spent erection
daggering into her core.

Alicia didn’t seem to mind. Instead she chose to caress him
with gentle buttock flexing muscle contractions that were the
limit of her bound capabilities. He knew they were contrived.
There was none the spasming power of an orgasmic event. In
the only way she could, Alicia was telling him that she had
enjoyed herself, and that she was willing to remain as his couch
until he was ready to release her. It was a meaningless
concession. Alicia had no choice in the matter.

Gently he withdrew and moved to a chair opposite. For while
he just sat there basking in the view of her available body.
Much later she was making sounds that indicated her wish to
be freed; .. now that he had slaked his thirst for her body, but
Benson ignored them. She was his to use as he pleased and it
pleased him to leave her as a tightly bound ornament. In time
she would learn that her wishes were of no concern. She was
just a piece of property owned by Benson Caldwell, yet he
marvelled at the tenacity of that flickering flame of rebellion.

He kept her trussed and available till late into the night.
Occasionally he would tease her by inserting a wriggling finger,
or tawsing her thrusting bottom. She even played host to the
two twisted ornamental candles from the dining table and as
the hot wax trickled onto her exposed flesh, she realized that
he had actually lit them and was using her as some sort of
erotic candelabra. She had no way of knowing that the lights
were dimmed and that he was sitting quietly watching the
flickering glow on her displayed rear. As she moved
infinitesimally the candles moved with her and second by
second a new surreal image of straining sheathed rubber
titillated his libido.

Sometimes he simply stroked and petted as the candles burned
inexorably lower. She never knew what he would do next.
The moaning pleas for release gained her nothing as he
pondered on the problem of erasing that final spark of
questioning resistance.

Eventually her writhing became urgent and seeing that the
flickering flames were approaching her supple silky rubber
sheathed flesh, he reluctantly relented and removed her
illuminating inserts.

It was past midnight when he finally seemed to be releasing
the straps. But it wasn't as simple as that for Alicia. Benson
knew that he was about to release her and she didn’t. It
therefore came as something of a shock when he indulged a
whim and ratcheted her down to a tightness that was
unsustainable for more than a few minutes without extreme
discomfort.

For five long minutes she endured as he savoured the vision
supplied by the massively increased tension of her cinching
and toyed with the vulnerable wetness of her love lips. Alicia’s
only defence was the muffled pleas for mercy, which promptly
earned her two more notches on the gag strap. Her body had
long since passed the point where she could move even the
tiniest amount. Benson seemed entranced by the three main
straps around her mid region and gave those the most
horrendous re-tensioning. First her waist was crushed savagely
inwards, then her bottom ratcheted up so tight as to almost
produce a second waist line. Finally the thigh spreading strap
that almost tore her in two as it opened her up, crushing her
thighs down and compressing inner thigh tissues further and
further outwards with each click.

Benson almost ejaculated as he stood back to observe the results
of his efforts. Alicia's rearing butt was obscenely re-sculpted
into an almost unrecognizable black sheathed shagging hillock.
It looked really strange to see her opened up so massively and
yet only a few inches further in either direction be so superbly
clamped together, compacted and contained as a tight package
of desirable femininity. Lower thighs were welded as one and
her fulsome buttock lobes crushed ruthlessly into a single strap
cinched hump. The bottom cleft had almost vanished.

He'd had it in mind to leave her overnight, but instead, settled
for giving the hugely cinched and bulbously extruded curves
of her bottom a thorough tawsing. Alicia orgasmically
imploded despite her excruciating compression as her
masochistic arousal refused to be cheated. It was a novel albeit
traumatic sensation for her. Benson had in effect converted
her into a solid object due to the irresistible compression of
her body.

He watched open mouthed as the cinched form vibrated
infinitesimally; a result of the titanic convulsions wracking
her parcelled rubber sheathed body. The arrogant aloof Alicia
was being shredded by her own uncontrollable libido and she
couldn’t move a muscle to escape the onslaught.

In the final analysis it wasn't her desperate muffled entreaties
that earned her freedom, but more a need to have her fresh
and alert for the coming day.

Alicia eased herself up from the stand and stood patiently as
he removed the hood. For a while he just watched as she
worked her mouth, her jaw stiff from prolonged stretching in
order to accommodate the massive gag. Alicia spoke first as
she rubbed the circulation back into her abused bottom.
“You really are a bastard aren't you?”

He made as if to answer, but she continued before he could.

“Thank God for bastards!”

Benson smiled.

“T hated you for that, I hated you for using me like a trussed
pig; and yet I wouldn't have missed it for the world. That final
session when you nearly cut me into bits with the straps—!"

She left the description unsaid but emphasized her feelings
with a groan and rubbed the uncovered tips of turgid nipples
suggestively with her palms. Benson didn't comment. It was
best that she formed her own opinions on the future of their
relationship. He could only push her so far. Only she could
make the decision to willingly opt for a life of sexual slavery.
The best he could offer was to reveal to her the wonders she
was capable of attaining; if she had the will, the guts, to take
that final step.

Despite the commonly held view that a submissive was easily
moulded, he knew that it was a conscious and bold path to
take, especially for a strong competent woman like Alicia. He
understood her dilemma. She was still trying to have the best
of two worlds. A firm commitment to one or the other was
being put off. Sooner or later she would have to make the
choice and when she did, he hoped it was to snuff that weak
flickering flame of resistance.

“Time for you to get to bed. You can stay unshackled tonight;
you’ll hardly get far like that anyway if you decided to do a
bunk.”

Alicia wasn't so pleased at that. Somehow the nightly ritual
of chaining her down had become an important part of her
daily routine. But Benson seemed adamant so she did push
the point. Finally he relented under the look of pouting
disappointment and shackled her wrists to the waist.

It was a restless night, in part overshadowed by the worry of a
guilty verdict; but mainly due to the insistent arousal
propagated by the feeling of her powerfully sculpted form. The
black rubber was thicker than her diaphanous see-through suits
and consequently added more of that sensational compressive
feel to her body. even in the twilight of sleep her body was
responding toa feeling of containment and ownership.

Finally morning arrived and haying eventually dozed into a
fitful sensuous sleep, she was awakened by the presence of her
custodian at the side of the bed. He offered out a cup of coffee
and then held it for her to sip as she swung herself up to a
sitting position.

“The big day is here sweet cheeks.”


ILLUSTRATION 9


Alicia didn’t need reminding. The first thought as
consciousness returned was that today her new found interest
in life might be taken away by a jury. She cast worried eyes at
him and to her surprise, Benson put an arm around her
shoulder and gave her a reassuring hug. It was the first real
sign of affection since they'd met. Strangely it unnerved her
more than if he ordered her to kneel. She realized that his
instruction had slipped her mind and watched by an amazed
Benson, she slid from the bed and knelt as she had learned.

Caldwell felt the heat rising and it wasn’t the room temperature.
Alicia Berkeley was finally accepting her new role with a
devotion to detail. His first instinct, given the stress she was
to endure later that day, was to waive his instruction. Then on
reflection he realized that to do so now would only confuse her
more.

He kept her kneeling whilst she finished the coffee, then
motioned her up and instructed her to move to the breakfast
bar. Once there he had her kneel by his ankles as he perched
on the stool.

Like a pet dog he fed her from his own plate and could see that
she was actually enjoying the sensation of being a kept woman.
It could well be that it was a backlash create by her years of
being the powerhouse in her previous relationship. He'd heard
that strong willed, competent, intelligent women were often
plagued by the secret desire to be controlled. Alicia Berkeley
would seem to be a prime example


Chapter Eight

Acquittal

The wall clock chimed 9 am. Benson rose and signalled her
to follow suit; .. it took but a few minutes to chain her up and
return her to a state of helpless femininity.

“Time to take the lamb to the slaughter sweet cheeks. Court
is in session at I0.30. I need to be there early and see Eddie.
We have a lot to discuss.”

Alicia's face froze in a mask of worry as she was harshly
reminded of the real world. She looked on as he approached
with the cape and was mildly surprised when he concealed her
manacled form in its secretive folds. She had fully expected
to be exposed to the public all the way, but obviously that
wasn't part of the defence plan.

They arrived as the first court staff were preparing for the day’s
events and sitting her down at the defence bench, Benson left
her to her own devices as he greeted Eddie and took the package
eagerly from his hand.

For the next half hour they both huddled over a video replay
monitor and discussed the tapes as first one and then the other
were plugged in, swapped and re-swapped. Alicia couldn’t see
anything and when she tried to approach, Benson sternly
ordered her to go and sit where she had been left.

The court continued to fill and with mounting apprehension
she watched as the press gallery filled to bursting with news
hounds eager to see the downfall of a rich bitch. Staring at a
sea of cameras poised and ready, Alicia suddenly felt extremely
vulnerable as the constriction of her tight bondage played on
her mind. The corset seemed to shrink inwards, squeezing
her figure and extruding the exposed areas of her breasts still
further in preparation for their public display. She tugged at
the waist cuffs but they stayed firm, holding her helpless and
ready for Benson to reveal. It had all seemed so exhilarating
to think of standing up in a public court, bound and displayed
when in the safety and privacy of his house. Now suddenly,
the reality came crashing down on her.

Benson appeared at her side and seeing the direction of her
gaze, he spoke softly.

“Having second thoughts sweet cheeks?”

She nodded and turned to face him with pleading eyes.

“Sorry! No chance to back out now. Don't think of them,
think of me. You're doing this for me.”

Her face brightened slightly. His forceful latent power was
feeding strength to her again. She smiled up at him and nodded
that her fear was under control. His hand squeezed her shoulder
and then he turned as the prosecution benches started to fill.

The public gallery was full to capacity and all the other benches
were taken by legal eager beavers anxious to see what promised
to be the trial of the year.

“All stand for Judge Benjamin Horton, Portland Supreme
Court is now In session."

The bailiff’s voice sent shivers through Alicia as she stood on
shaky legs and faced the bench. Judge Horton appeared and
took his seat. The bailiff gave the signal to sit and the court
sank down to their seats. For a while judge Horton busied
himself sorting documents, then he locked up and fixed the
defence bench with a grim stare.

“I see Myson Bennett and Caldwell are going to live to fight
another day then Mr Caldwell. I trust the strain of keeping an
eye on the defendant didn’t prove too arduous.”

Benson rose halfway as he answered.

“Not at all your honour, in fact it was quite the contrary.”

Judge Horton peered over his half eyes and appraised him with
a piercing look.

“Ahem! Quite so Mr Caldwell. Quite so.”

He turned to the bailiff.

“Is the jury sworn in Mr Peters?”

The bailiff affirmed that they were.

“Then let's have them in and get this show on the road.”

Benson leaned close to Alicia.

“Twice lucky. .. The old buzzard is in a jocular mood again.”

Alicia nodded nervously without speaking to indicate she’d
heard, then looked shocked as the judge spoke.

“And the ‘old buzzard’ also has excellent hearing Mr Caldwell.”

Benson flushed as the judge looked venomously at him, but
he was saved from further embarrassment as the jury filed in.

There was a lot of shuffling and movement, but finally they
settled d own, some staring at the defendant and others, in awe
of the judge, with eyes only for him.

Alicia was scanning the faces of the jury with a sort of pleading
look and Benson left her to it. It really wasn’t going to matter
what they thought in the final analysis; but then only two
people in that court knew that; .. Eddie and himself!

The proceedings moved on and for an hour the prosecution
did their best with a case that in all fairness was about as airtight
as a sieve. However, given the peculiarities of juries across the
globe, it was still dangerous to the defendant. He had to give
the prosecution credit. With virtually no facts at all and a
whole heap of circumstantial evidence, they had put together
a fairly comprehensive picture of a ruthless woman who had
blown away her adoring husband so as to gel her greedy hands
on his fortune. They made great play of the handcuff marks
that would indicate a heartless killing of a defenceless husband
and Alicia stole a worried glance at Benson.

She was almost in tears. Then came the final testimony from
the forensic lab that proved beyond all doubt that a short, fat,
thin, possibly tall, woman, with red, blonde, or possibly black
hair, had almost certainly been seen at the scene of the crime.
It was a masterpiece of definite maybe’s. A recent party at the
Berkeley residence had apparently supplied them with a wealth
of useless evidence. The prosecution wound up its case.

Benson Caldwell, although invited by the judge to begin his
defence, paused for an inordinate period before rising. It was
his way of getting all attention. The court was hushed in
anticipation. Standing straight and sure he faced the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what you have just heard is the most
ridiculous tirade of circumstantial bullshit it has ever been my
misfortune to sit through.”

The court exploded into uproar and judge Horton almost
busted his gavel as he called the court to order.

“Mr Caldwell! You had better have a good reason for that
outburst or I'll be charging you with contempt.”

Benson Caldwell seemed unruffled.

“I apologize for the strong words your Honour, but I stand by
my opinion of the prosecution case. We are not talking about
a fine here. We are discussing this woman's future; .. her life
in fact. How dare the prosecution risk putting Mrs Berkeley
in prison for the rest of her life on that hotch-potch of rubbish?”

Judge Horton seemed somewhat taken back at his continued
stance.

“The floor is yours Mr Caldwell; .. go to it son, but be careful."

That momentary slip in normal court room grammatically
correct speech betrayed the fact that he had a great respect for
a gutsy stand. Benson nodded his thanks and turned away.

“I call Mr Edward Pasco to the stand.”

Eddie was ushered in by the bailiff and took the oath.

“Be seated Mr Pasco and state your name and occupation.”

Eddie shuffled in the seat and cleared his throat.

“Eddie Pasco, Pasco and Blunt, Private Investigators, Seattle,
Washington State.”

Benson moved up to the witness box with a sheaf of notes.

“Mr Pasco, am I correct in stating that you were recently
appointed by Myson, Bennet & Caldwell to investigate Mrs
Berkeley?”

“That is correct.”

“And did you in the course of your investigation find any
evidence to prove her whereabouts on the night of the murder.”

“I did.”

When Benson indicated that he should elaborate, Eddie pulled
out his own notes and began to reveal the details of Alicia's
secret apartment and her movements on that day. Then Benson
interrupted him.

“During the course of your search in that apartment did you
find anything at all that would indicate that the defendant
may have been involved in the murder of Senator Berkeley,
bearing in mind evidence presented by the prosecution that
indicates the use of handcuffs on the victim?”

Eddie looked awkward and decidedly uncomfortable, as if not
sure he should reveal all; but an almost imperceptible nod
from Benson spurred him on.

“Well actually I found some handcuffs!”

The court background noise rose to a subdued roar and
sneaking a glance at the prosecution benches Benson saw them
beaming at each other in triumph. A sob behind him pulled
his attention away and a tearful Alicia was shaking her head at
his betrayal. He walked over and lifted some papers from the
desk, stooping low so as to speak to her. She beat him too it.

“You bastard! You evil bastard! You’ve taken what you wanted
and now you're going to let me rot in jail.”

Benson fixed his eyes on her and gave a slow wink.

“Have faith sweet cheeks, have faith. You're mine now and
nobody takes away Benson Caldwell’s possessions; not even
the State of Oregon.”

She looked up at him through tear streaked eyes, her face a
picture of incomprehension. The judge's voice interrupted
their mental connection.

“Forgive me for asking Mr Caldwell, but are you working for
the defence. or the prosecution?”

The judge seemed as puzzled as everyone else.

“Er! The defence your honour, as you will soon see. Unless
counsel for the prosecution has any questions, | would like to
excuse Mr Pasco for now, but I will need him later.”

The prosecution, smelling a rat, declined the offer and Eddie
left the stand.

“I now call Mr Peter Wendell.”

A mousy badly dressed figure appeared and went through the
witness swearing in. Benson gave Alicia a good shoulder
squeeze and warned her to get ready for the big show. He left
her mystified as to what was going on and walked over to the
witness box.

"Mr Wendell. Is it true that you were hired to follow and
investigate Mrs Berkeley by her late husband Mr Berkeley.”

“Yes.”

He riveted Wendell with a questioning stare.

“Why?”

Wendell eased himself uncomfortably in the seat under the
piercing stare of judge Horton who was also eager to hear his
reply.

“He was suspicions of her away trips and suspected she had a
lover. I was hired to find out who it was.”

Benson allowed the rumble of whispered discussion in the
public gallery to subside and then continued.

“Did you ever find any evidence of infidelity?”

Wendell shook his head then answered verbally for the Court
recorder.

“On the contrary. It appears that the marriage had broken
down as far as intimacy went, but Mrs Berkeley found other
means to fill that gap without taking a lover. It seems she
thought a great deal of Mr Berkeley, but things just didn’t
work out in bed.”

Benson nodded as if confirming his own findings, then cut
Wendell’s answer short.

“Yes! I'll come to that in a moment. Now tell the court, did
you in the course of your investigations locate an apartment,
rented and used by Mrs Berkeley?”

Wendell consulted some notes before answering,
“Yes I did. It was a luxury flat in Seattle, the address is—!”
Benson halted him there.

“The location is immaterial Mr Wendell other than the fact
that it was in the city of Seattle. What you observed there is
of far more relevance.”

He cast eyes towards Alicia and saw the first dawning of
realization.

“On the night of the murder, can you confirm that Mrs
Berkeley was in that apartment and therefore unable
to have committed the murder she is accused of.”

“Yes I can.”

“Then perhaps you will tell the court what you observed so as
to explain why it was impossible for you to have mistaken the
accused's identity, and therefore impossible for her to have
been the killer.”

Benson was moving across to Alicia as the man started to
speak.

“l was in an apartment opposite and a floor higher to so as to
get a good view. On the night of the murder Mrs Berkeley was
on the bed in that apartment for most of the night—!"

Benson interjected and fired a question over his shoulder.
“Asleep?”

Ruffled by the sharpness of the question, Wendell stumbled
on his speech.

“Er! No!”

Benson nodded as he reached Alicia.

“Then what was she doing?”

Wendell locked at the judge nervously then consulted his book.
It seemed that what he had to tell would come easier if it were
read as written evidence.

“She was lying naked on the bed, .. Er! .. Sort of playing with
herself.”

He was stopped short again by Benson

You mean masturbating do you?"

Wendell blushed.

“Yes.”

Again Benson waited as the rumbling of hushed discussion
echoed around the courtroom. A couple of sharp raps of his
gavel reminded them that judge Horton was presiding.

“Was there anything strange about the way she was
masturbating Mr Wendell?”

Wendell shuffled uncomfortably and looked apologetically al
Alicia: It seemed he had no wish to embarrass her.

“She had her ankles tied with some rope and she'd handcuffed
herself with her hands at the front; she was stroking her pussy;
.. I mean, her crotch, with her hands.”

The court exploded into sound and judge Horton did his gavel
bashing best to drown out the racket. Eventually silence reined.

“Is it not true Mr Wendell that on several occasions you
witnessed Mrs Berkeley tying herself up and playing with
herself?”

He moved across the court and around behind Alicia, easing
her up from the bench as his hand slid around to unfasten the
clips holding her concealing cape in place. He could feel her
trembling violently with powerful emotions. She knew what
was coming and it was all she could do to hold back a massive
orgasm as the moment approached.

“Yes that is true.”

Uncomfortably Wendell looked at Alicia apologetically.

“Then Mr Wendell, can you confirm that Mrs Berkeley Is a
practitioner of the sexual artform commonly referred to as
Bondage."

He emphasized the word bondage as his hand whisked away
the cape with a flourish. A stunned courtroom gasped as
Alicia's magnificently prepared figure was revealed to the entire
assembly.

Wendell managed a croaked yes as his eyes almost fell out.
Benson whispered in her ear.

“If you think that was fun, you haven't seen anything yet.”


ILLUSTRATION 10


She was magnificent. He could feel her orgasming violently,
yet to all outward appearances she was seemingly closing her
eyes to shut out the humiliation of the revealed exploits in her
apartment. Her body shudders were interpreted as either
trembling uncontrollable muscle spasms or suppressed sobs.
Close up he could see the pulsing turgid hardness of her
thrusting nipples, framed by the deepening reddish hue of her
aureoles. Benson smiled inwardly at the unmistakable signs
of her secret struggle.

“Mr Wendell, in your past experience as a private investigator,
would you say that the Mrs Berkeley you see here is a good
example of the art of bondage?”

Wendell swallowed hard and sought to bring his voice under
control.

“Yes! I would. An excellent example I might add.”

His face was flushed, but the power of his carnal desires gave
him the strength to speak clearly and without embarrassment,
although in a higher pitched voice. Judge Horton intervened.

“Mr Caldwell, I think you’ve proved you point. Would you
cover Mrs Berkeley and have her sit down.”

The judge was almost apologetic. No doubt he too was enjoying
the spectacle and he probably realized that most of the court
would prefer to have Mrs Berkeley stay visible.

“With respect Your Honour; unless you have reason to strongly
object, there is more to come and I would prefer the defendant
remained standing so as to clearly indicate to the jury that
this is not just a stated stunt to influence them, but in fact the
true persuasion of her sexual preferences. It is important to
establish that fact, as will be revealed. In fact I would prefer it
if she proceeded to the centre of the court so the Jury can
appreciate her at close quarters.”

Judge Horton studied her closely, then smiled for the first time.

“Well I certainly have no objections. Your client is most
pleasing to my tired old eyes, so unless she indicates that she
wishes to be seated she may proceed as you suggested.”

Benson turned to face the scarlet faced Alicia and without
saying a word used his eyes to command her to remain standing
and take her position. Alicia got the message clearly and barely
managed to suppress another orgasm as she addressed the judge.

“Thank you your Honour, I'll remain standing."

The old judge nodded appreciatively, fully aware that her
demeanour was highly stressful. Benson moved back to the
witness box and the court held its breath as the superbly
prepared woman strutted out and stood stiffly to attention in
full view. Benson nodded at her and smiled to indicate he was
pleased. She looked stunning and despite her obvious
helplessness, she had the entire court spellbound with the
radiated power of her superb female image. There wasn't a
man present who wouldn’t have licked her boots for the chance
to spend one single night in her company.

“Now! Mr Wendell, have you any way of substantiating this
evidence. As it is, you are the only witness to her alibi? .. My
client is a rich woman; .. you might have been bribed?”

He had to repeat the question as Wendell had basically been
hypnotized by Alicia’s show.

“Er! Yes, yes, of course. I taped the whole thing several times
with a video Carnera and a telephoto lens.”

“And where are tapes now?"

Wendell paused as if unsure of the question, a puzzled look in
his eyes.

“Your investigator Mr Pasco took them."

Benson heard Alicia’s groan from yards away. She could hardly
believe that her most private kinky masturbation sessions were
going to become public viewing as she stood before them,
trussed like a turkey and dressed in a most revealing manner.
Caldwell didn’t even have to look to know that the poor women
was secretly being racked by almost continuous orgasms now.
It would do her good. Control of herself was an important
part of his training.

He excused Wendell and was rather surprised that prosecution
didn’t move to cross examine and rubbish his testimony. A
brief glance in their direction gave him the answer as to why.
To a man they sat red faced and embarrassed, and he had
no doubt that were they asked to rise for any reason, the court
would be treated to the forest of prosecution counsel erections
bulging their trousers. He grinned and thanked God for the
tightly compressive leather pouch that was holding his own
raging erection hidden. Planning was proving to be his most
powerful weapon.

Then he decided to play another card. Judge Horton was
obviously under the spell of the apparition standing before
him and was liable to be receptive to suggestions that were
even more pleasing to his dead eyes.

“If it please the court; .. your Honour. I would like to alter
Mrs Berkeley's attire somewhat. In effect she will be gagged.
The reason for that is twofold. One is that my next evidence
is liable to create an emotional stress that would cause her to
call out. It is imperative that the jury Is not disturbed during
their deliberation on these points. The second is that it will
serve to enhance their understanding of how deeply involved
the defendant is in her sexual preferences and how impossible
it would be for her to alter personalities at short notice. That
may not seem important now, but it will be in a few minutes.”

Judge Horton studied him at length, his left hand tapping a
pencil on the desk as he deliberated.

“Is there any precedent for this sort of thing Mr Caldwell?”

Benson smiled and wayed a copy of Oregon State Judiciary
rules in the air.

“Volume two, Page II66; Paragraph 3: Quote, ‘any duly
elected officer of the court may request that a defendant be
forcibly silenced if there is continuous vocal interruption; or
possibility of same, to a level that could be considered
detrimental to a proper hearing of the evidence’ Unquote.”

The judge peered sternly at him over his glasses.

“Very well Mr Caldwell. I think you are bending that ruling to
hell and gone in interpretation, but I'll accept that if the
defendant indicates a willingness to comply. But your reasons
had better be good.”

Benson lifted some gear out of his briefcase and went over to
Alicia.

“Open wide Mrs Berkeley I would like to gag you.”

There was a moment's hesitation, then she slowly opened her
sensual mouth. Alicia's eyes studied him accusingly as he
lifted the gag. The message was clear. ‘You asshole, you re
doing this for yourself it has nothing to do with winning the
case’. He was and furthermore he had chosen to insert the
gag first, sooner than risk a refusal as he added some other
items.

A gasp went up from the court as they witnessed a woman
public allowing herself to be gagged. Benson worked the
huge ball in; the biggest she had ever managed, and then
strapped it tight. overnight he'd swapped the one she tested
at the fitting to a larger version.

Working quickly; fingers trembling with the excitement she
was generating in him by her compliance, he rounded on her
and drew her arms even more tightly behind by adjusting the
chain linking the cuffs on her elbows. Kneeling he produced a
second set and manacled her ankles tightly together. Unlike
the normal chain linked variety, these cuffs were a solid one
piece item. No matter what, Alicia now had to stand and
watch the tapes whether she liked it or not. Her ankles were
securely locked into what amounted to a pair of mobile stocks.
Breasts thrusting even more due to the extreme elbow cuffing,
she stood still and thoroughly exposed as the all-male jury sat
boggle eyed. Shock registered in her eyes as the realization
that she was now unable to reverse the situation by movement
or vocal means. She was slightly at an angle to the jury so he
skidded her round to a full face profile.

“I call Mr Eddie Pasco back to the stand.”

Eddie reappeared on the stand carrying the tapes. Benson was
near to Alicia and she sent a silent questioning message with
her eyes that was instantly understood. He moved close and
whispered in her ear.


cs sweet cheeks they include all the sessions.

Her eyes pleaded; .. not the ones with the vibrators? He just
grinned triumphantly and ignored the silent begging as the
next stage of his training took the stand.

“Sorry sweet cheeks. We have no choice now unless you want
to spend a lifetime in jail. Besides I'm going to enjoy seeing
them shown and watch you have to witness your own exposure,
Good for your training. I order you to stand up straight and
watch and don’t let me see you turn your eyes away. Stand up
straight to attention, no slouching.”

He left the trembling woman as she stiffened herself up and
complemented himself on his sadistic enjoyment at the
extension of her ordeal. It was almost a dream come true to
see this formerly high flying socialite tightly bound and
displayed in court.

Benson approached Eddie.

“Mr Pasco, do you possess some tapes that you acquired from
Mr Wendell?”

Pasco nodded.

Yes I do.”

“Do you have the tapes with you?”

Eddie handed over four tapes and then showed a fifth that was
obviously of a different make.

“These are the tapes made by Mr Wendell?”

He held up the four.

“And this your own I believe?”

Eddie confirmed that.

Benson moved over to the court video machine and plugged
in a tape. The huge screens, strategically placed to ensure all
had a good view flickered and burst into life.


ILLUSTRATION 11


As large as life Alicia was captured in the act of first handcuffing
herself, then laying back with a huge vibrator that was soon
buried deeply into her squirming body. The tape lasted an
hour, then a second produced an even more interesting scene
as she apparently experimented by hauling herself to the ceiling
by her ankles and then handcuffing herself as she hung like a
huge pendant bat. She was a magnificent sight, slowly twirling
around writhing and convulsing as the power of her approaching
orgasm took hold; the end of a huge pre-inserted vibrator clearly
visible as it rattled away in her inserted love mound. It proved
most interesting to watch her naked nubile antics when she
discovered the pitfalls of self-bondage for the first time.

It took her nearly twenty minutes to get the key back in the
handcuffs after enduring an explosive suspended orgasm. She
had miscalculated on the drain of strength required to fuel
such an explosive response and had great difficulty in straining
her limbs in order to engage the key in the lock and her
foolhardiness at cuffing her hands behind her back had nearly
left her in a most embarrassing pickle.

A breathless court sat stunned, eyes flitting back and forth
from screen to the solitary squirming figure of tightly hound
embarrassment standing in the centre of the court. Alicia's
nipples were now standing out in stark relief, breasts rising
an falling urgently with the demands of her arousal. It was
doubtful that anyone was missing the obvious implications.
Judge Horton came to her rescue and drew attention away.

“I think we’ve seen enough to convince us of her preferences
Mr Caldwell. But can we get to the point. None of this
proves she was actually filmed at the time of the murder.”

Benson was a little irked that the planned drawing out of his
defence was being foreshortened. He wanted Alicia out there
for as long as he could sustain her humiliating exposure and if
things had been allowed to continue he was sure the court
would have been privileged to witness an orgasm that she
couldn't hide. He fished out a tape and offered it to Eddie.

“Mr Pasco, can you identify this tape?”

Eddie studied the tape cassette and then conferred with his
notes.

“Yes! This is a tape I took from Mr Wendell after he had
made a copy. The serial number tells me it is the same tape I
took to the FBI laboratory for analysis. They can confirm
what I say and I have the number of their test document; in
that this tape Is a virgin master recording, untouched, unedited,
uncut and with no additions.”

He handed it back, noting the triumphant gleam in Benson's
eye.

“Thank you Mr Pasco.”

Benson plugged the tape In and the court hushed as Alicia
reappeared and began another hour of self-bound antics The
tape clicked off and judge Horton immediately challenged.

“Again Mr Caldwell, that proves nothing.”

Benson smiled confidently.

“Ah! But it does your honour.”

He flipped the taped to rewind and watched the counter unwind
to a specified point. The screen burst into life again, just in
time to catch Wendell zooming in for a close-up shot that
highlighted the insertion of a massive dildo into what was an
obviously a well lubricated demanding pussy. He froze the
frame just as the cuffed wrists were appearing and the dildo
was three parts buried. Alicia's pussy looked so inviting;
stretched and deformed by the hugeness of her toy, suckling
the buzzing monster with a fervent passion. Impatiently, Judge
Horton banged his gavel.

“Mr Caldwell! .. You're turning my court into a porn show,
now kindly explain the significance of this-- this-- scene!”

Caldwell moved over to screen, the corner of his eye catching
a glimpse of Alicia as he went. She was suffering hell. The
whole court had eyes that were alternating from the pussy on
the screen to her own superbly defined latex sheathed crotch.
Her humiliation was complete and her body was responding
with mind sapping eruptions that she was now battling to
conceal. He left her to suffer and pointed to an
indistinguishable red glow at the bottom left of the picture;
some sort of reflection from the glass of the window the film
was being shot through.

“Mr Pasco, can you tell me what that is?”

Eddie seemed pleased that at last he was going to be allowed to
inspired brilliance at his chosen profession.

“It’s the reflection of an advertising boarding; .. to be exact a
Burger King sign.”

Benson nodded.

“And can you tell me how you managed to ascertain that?”

Eddie cleared his throat and visibly expanded with pride at his
own expertise.

“First by an on-site inspection, then I had the FBI photo-lab
freeze enhance and blow up the frame. In fact I have a copy of
the enhanced frame here, certified by the FBL.”

He offered the fifth tape forward.

Benson {lipped the other tape out and heard a sigh of relief
from Alicia as the Technicolor close-up of her suckling pussy
vanished from sight. The fifth tape was plugged in and again
the screen flashed up.

A murmur of astonishment went through the court. The
quality was excellent, right down to the digital LED clock set
in the face of the sign. The figures were reversed with it being
a reflection, but even so, they were clear and unmistakable.

“Tell me Mr Pasco, did you speak to the owner of that Burger
King and did you ascertain that the clock is in fact always
maintained accurately?”

Eddie nodded and confirmed it verbally to the Jury.

“I did and it is. .. In fact the local police can see it from the
station house and they set their clocks by it."

Benson drew himself up to his full height, faced the jury and
fixed them with a triumphant stare.

“Then what time and date is depicted here?”

The court held its breath and even Alicia was frozen into
inactivity.

“It translates from digital form as November I6th I995 and
the time covered by the tape is 9.32 through to 9.58 in the
evening."

Benson turned to the judge, then back to the jury, his face
aglow.

“So ladies and gentlemen, in order to accept the prosecution’s
charges, you will have to accept that at 9.58 on the evening of
the murder, Mrs Berkeley was lying bound and handcuffed by
her own hand and in the process of stuffing a rather large
vibrator into her vagina. Then, twelve minutes later, at the
precise time of the murder, was one hundred and sixteen miles
away blowing her husband’s brains out; .. if the prosecution is
to be believed.

"Does anyone really believe that a woman so deeply involved
with her passion for bondage could so quickly revert to a vicious
killer in a matter of seconds; then do the impossible and drive
that distance in twelve minutes? Look at her now and try and
imagine her walking from this court in such an emotional
state of sexual arousal and committing murder, even assuming
she had a car capable of almost the speed of light.

“The defence rests.”

The court exploded in a fury of flash bulbs and cheers and
judge Horton finally busted his gavel before order was restored.
Alicia staggered as her legs started to give way and Benson
grasped her firmly, released the ankle cuffs, then led her back
to the defence bench.

She ignored her previous instructions to remain standing and
simply collapsed to the bench. But Benson was inclined to let
that infringement ride. He turned back to the bench as judge
Horton finally made himself heard.

“Members of the jury, I am instructing you to return a verdict
of not guilty. Are there any dissenters?”

The jury foreman stood after a quick check.

“None your Honour!

Judge Horton turned back to the defence bench.

“Will the defendant please rise and Mr Caldwell, would you
mind taking that tennis ball thing out of your client's mouth?”
Alicia struggled her feet and stood shaking with emotion as he
prised the ball free.

“Alicia Berkeley, the charges against you have been dismissed.
Accordingly, I am most pleased to tell you that you are free to
go. And Mr Caldwell, I would appreciate you covering her up
before you leave my court. I'd hate to give the public the
wrong impression about the goings on in here."

He started to rise then halted and leaned down to speak quietly
to Benson who was grinning broadly.

“By the way, that was a pretty slick defence.”

His face split into a huge grin and rising he turned and left the
court.

Caldwell turned to Alicia. She was shuddering with
uncontrollable emotion and sobbing at the sudden release of
tension. He turned her to face him and holding her by the
shoulders, locked straight into her tearful eyes.

“It's over sweet cheeks.”

His voice was soft and unheard by those around them. For a
short time they were in a world of their own, alone in a world
of mutual trust. Alicia was trying to tell him with her eyes
that she was ashamed she had doubted him. Benson decided
she needed a strong hand to help her through that traumatic
moment.

“Now get a grip of yourself. I don’t want my woman to be
seen crying. Keep it up and I'll take you out of here without
the cape."

At any other time in recent days that could well have been a
bluff she would have called. But right now it was the last thing
she wanted. Alicia needed to go home feeling that it was their
little secret. The public exposure of her secret apartment antics,
had for the time being drained her reserves of strength. The
tight constraints of her bondage would help to restore her
protected feeling, something that had been stripped from her
by the clinical court room appraisal of her most private
moments. She didn't want to share her persuasions with
strangers at this time. Benson saw her trying to bite back the
tears and rewarded her for effort. Her eyes conveyed her thanks
as he draped the cape around her and buttoned it up. Alicia
was never sure if he forgot the elbow cuffs or left them on by
design. Whatever, the net result left her gasping for breath as
the cape worked against her naked projecting nipples.

Benson led her through the throng and shielded her from the
flashing bulbs of news-hawks by bringing up the hood on the
cape. His strategy seemed to be working. First crush her to
nothing with public disgrace and then start to rebuild with
gentle yet firm control. The foundations he had already laid
would stand strong as she began to make the final conversion.


Chapter Nine

Rotary Romp

Arriving back at the apartment, Benson was pleased to see
that despite all that had happened, Alicia had not only
remembered his instructions, but seemed quite happy to
continue with them. She knelt obediently as soon as she was
uncaped and awaited his next command. She looked so sweet
and vulnerable kneeling with her face upturned like an adoring
dog. He stooped and kissed her lightly, then as a parting gesture
of affection, placed his forefinger lightly on the end of her
cute nose.

He had to be careful now. She was a free woman. Free to
leave at any time with no State condition imposed. In her
own right she was wealthy and eminently capable of running
her own life. Until she took the final step, the option to reverse
course was always there. As he made a quick freezer meal
ready, he pondered the problem at length. There were two
ways he could go. Soft and easy; .. or risk all and push her
through the barrier of no return in a few drastic moves. Either
way it could backfire. After some careful thought, he chose
the latter.

Serving the meal, he passed Alicia's plate down to her and had
her eat from a kneeling position. It was awkward even with
her wrists and elbows freed. The plate had to be placed on the
floor which entailed her leaning forward and down in order to
feed. The corset didn’t help at all as it robbed her midriff of
any flexibility that would allow her to get closer. Alicia was
only half finished when Benson cleared his own plate. That
suited him well. He left her busily eating and moved into the
lounge. There were things to get ready that were best put in
place before she came in. He wanted to make sure she had
little time to think too carefully before the power of her
considerable libidinous driving force took over.

Some minutes later, he called for her to come through as soon
as she had finished and was pleased to see her stride through
the door almost immediately.

Alicia slowed as she walked over to the new contrivance that
had appeared, circling it at a distance as she tried to decipher
its purpose. Basically it seemed simple enough, although she
wasn't sure how it was going to please her keeper. There was a
circular pedestal a yard in diameter and some six inches thick.
Mounted on its flat deck was an adjustable pole, with what was
clearly a vibrating dildo fashioned on its upper end. As dildo’s
went it was moderate in size and certain y well within her
capacity to house in her generously elasticated love tunnel.
Two base mounted single manacles set either side of the pole
and spaced at about eighteen inches were the other items on
view. Apart from that there was only a weird harness of thin
straps lying nearby that defied recognition.

Benson took her arm and led her up onto the pedestal. She
held back fractionally and inquire what the thing was for.
That tiny flame of resistance was still flickering.

He ignored her question and simply frowned at her. Alicia got
the message an allowed him to continue. Taking great care
he positioned her and released the lock on the pole extender.

Looking down, she saw the dildo advancing on her mons as it
rose and prepared herself for entry. He'd already coated the
thing with jelly so she was pleased that it wouldn't be a traumatic
dry insertion; although given the speed that her pussy was
responding, it was doubtful it would reach insertion point before
she was well lubricated with her juices of arousal. Benson
indicated that she should take over. Nervously, she reluctantly
accepted the invitation. Alicia reached down and gripped the
shaft, easing it upward as the tip spread her love lips, then
gasped slightly as the cool slippery shaft stretched her delicate
internal membrane and slithered into her depths. The dildo
flange bottomed out against her mons, but Benson gripped
her forearm and eased the intruder back from full penetration
before locking it in position. She looked puzzled and received
a smile in return. Benson was obviously going to let her wait
to find out the plot.

He inched her stilettoed feet apart and snapped the manacles
on, thus effectively holding and maintaining her legs In a
comfortable and sustainable spread. Returning to the dildo
adjustment he reset the thing, its distance now altered by her
slightly reduced crotch height. Again he locked it a few inches
from full penetration and grinned impishly at her continuing
puzzlement.

The thin strap harness proved to be a breast halter and familiar
with its fitting, Benson soon had her chest strapped up and
the harness adding to the extrusion of her boobs.

Taking a wrist he brought her hand up and shackled it into a
cuff on the harness, then did the same with the other. Alicia
found herself committed to a palms inwards stance that entailed
cupping her own breasts. The rubber coated mounds felt goad
to her and she could feel the exposed nipples daggering into
her palms. A ball gag quickly found its way into her mouth
and then after a final check, he drew up a chair and sat in
front of her. She looked at him questioningly as he smirked at
her secured body.

“Those videos really got me going sweet cheeks, so I thought
that tonight I'd just sit back and let you entertain me after all
the hard work I’ve put in.”

Her puzzlement grew, so he gave it to her in plain language.

“You're going to stay there and jerk yourself off whilst I watch.
And I warn you now, you stay there until I’ve seen at least six
orgasms, even if it takes all night. No fakes either. I want to
see genuine eyeball rolling pussy dribblers.”

"Mmmmmmrrrr! Ummmmppphh!"

Alicia was mortified but the gag prevented her making any
coherent comment. It was a whole lot different to being used
as a sex object. That she could live with. But to stand there in
full view and deliberately masturbate herself to orgasm in front
of a man was something that hadn't entered into the equation
in allowing herself to be conditioned.

She thought about it for a while as he waited for her to come
to terms with his instructions. The mechanics of it all defeated
her at first. There was no doubt she could massage her boobs
to great effect, but the dildo defeated her. It was only then
that she understood the partial insertion. Benson had a
arranged it so that she had to flex her legs and physically work
herself up and down to achieve full penetration. Just moving
herself against a fully inserted dildo was not enough. He wanted
to see her working hard deliberately impaling herself, so as to
bring about the desired orgasm; and that required a sort of
stooping squat for each impalement. She pleaded with her
eyes and made mewing protests past the gag, but Benson's
look told her that he was resolute in his demands.

Tentatively she eased herself down and allowed her hands to
squeeze the fulsome orbs filling her palms as the dildo filled
her lower body. The first few tries were slow and almost
mechanical as she experimented with the required angle of
descent that entailed an arched back and butt thrusting posture.
Her face became crimson with the flush of embarrassment.
Then Alicia found herself warming to the idea as she saw his
appreciative looks and her movements steadily became smooth
and rhythmical as the fixed dildo drilled her suckling sex mouth
remorselessly. He rose from the chair and crossed the room
out of her sight. She paused without thinking and he ordered
her not to stop. The base jerked slightly and a faint hum
sounded as Alicia found herself slowly beginning to rotate as
she performed her undulating self-impaling dance. The pedestal
was motorized, probably a shop window display pedestal.

"MMMMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHH!”

Her nostrils flared. A vibrator inside the dildo suddenly burst
into life and began sending hugely pleasurable feelings coursing
through her groin as she pumped up and down.

Without conscious effort Alicia realized that her hands were
working her breasts in a sympathetic reaction and for the first
time she felt that this could be good. The natural instincts of
an aroused woman to caress her own breasts was working for
both of them.

Benson was back in his chair as she completed the first rotation
and she tried to imagine what it felt like from his angle; a
beautiful woman rotating and displayed from all angles,
deliberately working herself into a sexual frenzy at his request.
She had no doubt that the rear view of her flexing bottom was
every bit as sensual as the front. Her mons flushed with hot
liquid as the masochistic instincts rose to control her being
and shamefaced she felt the hot rivulets of love syrup beginning
to ooze through the crotch opening of the suit and course
down her latex sheathed thighs. The pistoning shaft was
working its magic and yet again she found herself unable to
resist the shattering sensations of pleasure coursing through
her lower body.

The flush deepened as her pussy began to squelch loudly, but
Benson gave no indication that she could stop. Humiliation
began to heap on humiliation as trapped air produced a loud
vagina fart. Yet despite the crushing embarrassment, Alicia
knew she was losing control. Her movements became more
urgent, legs flexing madly at the knees as she began the
unstoppable rise to a massive climax. Slick with a mixture of
gel and her own juices, the glistening dildo thundered in and
out of her pussy and through the haze of her arousal she could
see that Benson was savouring the sight as her hungry sex lips
eagerly devoured the rigid vibrating shaft at each squatting
insertion. Her back swung round towards him and yet she
could feel the burn of his gaze on her super animated jostling
buttocks. Not only were they supplying the bulk of her
reciprocating effort, but they were also engineering massive
clenching paroxysms of quivering muscle tension that were
guaranteed to provide a male with pure erotic sensation as she
worked her crotch region to a frenzy of muscular activity.

The turn was only half completed when she erupted into a
shattering orgasm that robbed her legs of strength and left her
shuddering and moaning with exquisite sensations. In a slowly
altering side profile Alicia provided a shattering vision of a
woman at full climax as she trembled and cavorted with the
power of her own carnal eruption. Benson was treated to
another full rotation with her form frozen into a quivering
statue of ecstasy, occasionally bucking and jerking as random
spasmodic reaction racked her body and worked her on the
shaft.

The tidal wave of feeling retreated and remembering her task
she groggily forced her body into motion. Benson clapped
and cheered.

“Well done sweet cheeks, now keep it up.”

Alicia was by now fully into the scene. Shifting her hands and
gripping the jutting nodules of her hardened nipple kernels,
she treated him to a head back, eyes closed demonstration of a
woman at play, rolling and teasing the pulsing nodules between
her fingers. Never once did she falter in the reciprocating self
impalement as she bobbed up and down on the monstrously
effective vibrator. The next climax arrived almost immediately
and despite the all-consuming eroticism of the moment, she
felt pangs of disappointment that her designated quota of
climatic extravaganzas was diminishing. Benson let her
complete the body pulverizing orgasm and then stopped the
turntable.

Alicia's reaction was clearly one of distress. She was demanding
explanation with her eyes and almost begging him to switch it
back on. Not once did she falter in the knee bending
performance or for that matter her boob mauling massage and
that was to her credit. Benson called her to a halt and began
to unshackle her as she threw venomous looks at the top of
head.

“Change of plan sweet cheeks and the sooner you learn not to
question what I do, the better for you. Think back! Have I
ever done anything you didn’t end up enjoying?”

Alicia managed to take his question on board and had to admit
that he was right. Yet despite the wisdom of what he said, it
was difficult for her to accept right then as the warm dildo slid
out of her yearning pussy.

Free of the restraints and harness, she looked to him for
explanation. There was none forthcoming. He simply stripped
her down until she was stark naked then he refitted the boots.
As he worked her eyes were continuously drawn back to the
waiting dildo and the look betrayed her need to be impaled on
its smooth inviting massiveness.

Ten minutes later, Alicia was reassembled in the same format,
albeit naked to the world. The wisdom of his earlier words
suddenly took on meaning. It was a glorious sensation to
begin her performance all over again, but without the concealing
rubber suit. Her next orgasm was almost instant. Then
Benson, ever the inventive type, poured baby oil into her boob
cupping hands. The sensation of having her smoothly sliding
hands forcibly maintained against her receptive breasts was
exquisite. even if she tried to refrain from any conscious
massage, her jostling antics on the dildo resulted in her boobs
slithering and sliding inside her grasp. Benson didn’t leave it
at that. On a purely personal gratification basis he oiled her
scintillating form from top to bottom and then sat back as the
glistening bronzed beauty performed for his leisure. Sleek
and oiled, she was a scintillating example of prime, sexually
motivated female flesh in full blossom.

The explosive orgasms began to merge into one continuous
cycle that simply varied in intensity. Alicia was a permanently
rippling sea of sensuous curving animation, her moans and
gasps merging into a single quavering note. An indicator of
the absolute peak of each event was marked by great snorts of
controllable breath blasting from her flaring nostrils and
heavy breasts. Yet despite the massive drain on her body she
continued the performance. It was a spectacular demonstration
of feline erotica. Every line, every animated flexing curve sent
the blood coursing through his veins. Her continuous squatting
trauma served to accentuate the firm athletic thighs and ultra
feminine hip flare of her outstanding female skeletal structure.
Alicia Berkeley was the embodiment of a tantalizing available
sex kitten, notwithstanding her thirty one years.


ILLUSTRATION 12


Benson gave her a helping hand as the reserves of her carnal
storage banks ran low. Placing himself at the side of the rotating
woman, he waited until her hard working bottom came into
range and then let fly with a single stroke of the tawse. The
terrible anticipation of each strike as she inexorably rotated
was sufficient to power Alicia right back up to previous levels.
For an hour or more he enjoyed the game, flailing her vulnerable
well striped bottom with gay abandon, sometimes catching
her stooped and fully impaled, others as she had completed a
withdrawal. The strikes catching her at the squat seemed to
produce the best effect as she jerked involuntarily against a
deeply probing vibrator, wringing a delightfully loud
MMMMMMppphh! from her as the tawse bit in.

“Louder sweet cheeks, louder! I want to enjoy hearing you
suffer.”

Alicia did her best as the swings of the tawse grew stronger.
Pretty soon she had struck up a nice tune that was superbly in
sync with the actions and reactions of her body. There was the
lessor sound of effort as she flexed and impaled, a sort of beat
note; that in turn was interspersed with her loud tawse generated
expulsion of breath. Finally there was the drawn out sound as
she ended each movement of the tune with an uncontrollable
outpouring of sound as she was erupting into orgasm.

“Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph!
Mmmph!"

Thwack!


ILLUSTRATION 13


MMMMMPRRRPPPHHHT"

“Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph I Mmmph!"

Then an orgasm would interrupt the recital.

MMMMMMBPERRCRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrerrrrrer!
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMBrerrrrerrer!

Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph!

Thwack!

"MMMMMPRRRPPPHHHT"

“Come on sweet cheeks, let's see those tits really getting
mangled.”

He reached up and keeping pace with her rotation, cinched
the breast halter to a tighter fit, necking the self-abused orbs
tightly in at the base. Alicia was mashing the bulbously shaped
mounds with a fervor, constantly changing her style and
treating him to a show of nipple squeezing, nodule stretching
extravagance as she complied with his wishes.

“Pull them out, let's see them twanging with tension girl.”

She gripped hard and pulled, elongating her own boobs to
ridiculous dimensions as she vented a semi disapproving
MMMMMMrrrerr! through the gag.

“Keep them out for three turns while I whip your ass sweet
cheeks.”

Jerking up and down on the vibrator, Alicia maintained the
painful pull as her butt absorbed the stinging attention of his
tawse. She looked totally absurd as she rotated and jounced
on the pussy probing dildo. Absurd and yet stunningly beautiful
and infinitely arousing.

He supplemented the tawse treatment with his hands. Not to
strike, but to knead and massage her gorgeous bottom as it
returned with each rotation; undulating and flexing; virtually
begging for him to use it as he saw fit. Benson glanced up and
grinned. Alicia lost count of the turns and sooner than earn
his wrath she was still holding the abused orbs at full stretch.
Her manacled hands prevented a straight pull. In effect she
gripped the nodules between the sides of two fingers and then
rolled her palm outward. It looked magnificent. A captive
abused woman cupping and lifting her own stretched tits out
on offer. He decided to leave her like that sooner than inform
her she had already done over ten turns.

At times he would bend low and study her dildo clutching
labial lips at close range. That simple voyeuristic act sent
searing waves of pleasure through her; .. to imagine what he
could see as her pumping sex mouth suckled and slurped on
the invading vibrator. For Benson the sight was incredible.
For the first time in his life he was witnessing a woman's basic
drive unit working hard and at close range. The vision of
those resilient peach-like fleshy mounds stretching and flexing
as she endlessly reciprocated nearly drove him insane. Flashes
of the scarlet inner lips revealed the slavering portal dripping
with the juices of lust each time she withdrew; and then there
was the crotch searing sight of seeing her blood engorged mons
effortlessly swallowing that shaft with such a voracious appetite.
It was amazing to see a woman absorb such a large object into
the inner reaches of her body with such consummate ease and
he marvelled at the superlative design of the female gender.

I0 pm rolled around and he finally brought the exhausted
Alicia to a stop. Seeing her pleading eyes indicating the
stretched tits, he allowed her to let go. It was incredible. For
over two hours she had kept them out no matter how many
strength sapping, body aloes orgasms had tempted her
to release them. He ventured a guess that she knew when the
required turns were completed, but had chosen to maintain
that ridiculously humiliating stance for his benefit. Yet even
then, her term of office as a voyeuristic ornament was not
complete.

Benson reached up and tightened the ball gag. Then using a
roll of surgical tape, he virtually cocooned her head in a sheath
of adhesive coated elasticized cotton, taking great care to ensure
that at least five turns compressed the ball gag deeper into her
mouth. Alicia rolled her eyes as his hand appeared with the
hood. Stoically she stood obediently still as he gift wrapped
her head in a tight fitting sheath of laced rubber and consigned
her to a world of darkness. The visible nostrils flared with her
discontent, but he ignored the message.

“My turn for some fun now. Off you go, tits out and don’t
stop tucking yourself until you are told.”

Alicia felt the turntable start up and began her performance.

“I know you’re spent sweet cheeks; no need to try for another
orgasm. All you have to do is perform as an animated ornament
for my pleasure. I like seeing that gorgeous body jerking up
and down.”

Through the thick covering of her hood, she heard the chair
creak as it accepted his weight. Then there were further smaller
creaks that conveyed a lessor movement. Suddenly it hit her.
Benson was masturbating himself and using her as the
instrument of his arousal. That was understandable given the
incredible self-abusing, indecently posturing image she was
providing. It was doubtful that any male could withstand the
sight of a woman so humiliated. She continued her pussy
pumping antics as her brain absorbed and analyze the
information.

It was all right for him to watch her masturbating and playing
with herself but she wasn't allowed to see him abusing himself.
It took some time for all the connotations of that revelation
to sort itself out. But when it finally did she was content with
the reasoning behind his actions. She was just a sex toy; an
ornament; he was the master.

Alicia liked the feeling of being regarded as a toy. She pulled
her nipples as far as she could and escalated the pussy pumping
performance to demonic levels. In her desire to please she
added her own idea and as best she could, jostled the stretched
orbs in her cupping palms. The magnificently displayed tits
quivered like tensioned jellies.

Despite his relaxation of the order to orgasm, she suddenly
found herself engulfed by what was probably the most powerful
climatic eruption she had experienced to date. There was no
warning, no working up; her body just exploded into a fury of
rippling muscle contractions as she endured the full fury of
her masochistic enjoyment. Hot rivers of liquid lust were
flowing unashamedly down her legs and she knew he would
see them. She didn't care anymore. She just kept pumping
madly on that pussy plundering dildo. All the time she was
fervent! hoping that he was enjoying her complete capitulation
to the pleasures of the flesh.

He kept her at it until midnight. At times she could hear that
he was in the kitchen and not even watching. But she had not
been ordered to stop so she continued to perform as ordered.
It increased the pleasure by knowing that her unseen animation
enhanced the status of an unfeeling ornamental exhibit left
unthinkingly switched on.

When she was finally released, he lifted her down and cradled
her in his arms. Without warning he bent his face to hers and
kissed her full on the lips. It was a gentle sensuous kiss, not
the demanding forceful connection of an uncaring man.
Alicia’s mind was confused. He exhibited all the properties of
a cruel sadistic man; .. a forceful man and yet there was also
the potential for great gentleness and consideration. As he
carried her through to her bed, she thought it through. Could
it be that he was considering her when he treated her like an
ornament. Was he sharing pleasure when he ordered her to
provide a lewd humiliating spectacle of herself?

Unresisting and deep in a dreamy sort of thought, she allowed
him to re-install her in the transparent suit then spread-eagle
and chain her down. It never even occurred to her that the
reason for her initial restraint was no longer in force. Even if
it had been, it was doubtful she would have objected. Alicia
drifted off into a pleasant sleep. It was comforting to feel
herself restrained and offered; perhaps owned was a better word.


Chapter Ten

The Final Capitulation

Alicia awakened feeling pleased. She'd passed his test and
now he would accept her. But she was wrong, The final test
was still to come.

Benson had risen early and whilst she was still sleeping, he was
busy preparing a new outfit. He heard the sounds of her
awakening an hour later, released her from the bed and helped
her to peel off the cloying overnight suit.

“Go and have a nice long soak in the tub now. It may be your
last chance for some time.”

Alicia looked at him with inquiring eyes but refrained from
asking the question. He answered anyway.

“Today we go for the last and biggest test—!”

Benson pressed a finger to her lips as she made to speak.

“You don’t speak any more unless I give permission.’

Alicia pouted like a spoilt child but complied. There was so
much she wanted to ask but it seemed she would just have to
wait and see. Something told her that this may be the time
she had postponed on several previous occasions and the mere
thought of it made her knees go weak with feelings of
overpowering sensation.
 
The bathing took less than normal time and her make-up went
on minutes. Her body was responding to the challenge with a
sense of urgency that she found impossible to resist. Caldwell
was waiting when she emerged and led her back to the bathroom
where he produced an electric clipper of the type used by barbers.

“Time for that to go sweet cheeks.”

Alicia followed the pointing finger and felt a thrill as her lush
pubic mound came under threat.

“Clasp your hands behind your back and stand with your legs
slightly apart.”

She did as instructed and felt the clippers begin to slide across
her mons. It took but a few minutes to strip her of the down
of full womanhood, but Benson seemed intent on complete
exposure. First came a very pleasant sensation as he lathered
her crotch with foam, then a razor plucked at the remaining
stubble and Alicia found herself moistening as the harsh rasping
steadily became a smooth gliding sensation. She looked down,
her face flushed with excitement as the pristine pink peach-
like lobes of her pussy came into view. There was an oozing
heat creeping through her groin as she contemplated the
slithering latex against her denuded love lips. It was all she
could do to deny the urge to clamp her thighs and massage her
throbbing mons with the powerful muscles of her upper legs.
Benson fixed her with a challenging stare.

“And now the rest of it.”

His eyes rose to the top of her head and Alicia was frozen with
shock as his full intent became clear. She shook her head and
made as if to plead but his finger warned her to remain silent.

“If you're mine, you are mine to do with as I wish. If that
wish is to keep you completely naked, you have to obey. The
choice is yours, take it or leave it. You can back out at any time."


ILLUSTRATION 14


A tear formed in her eye and the beautiful lips trembled, but
she obediently lowered her head as a sign of her acceptance.
The clippers buzzed and locks of her once prized golden tresses
began to fall past her downward cast eyes. Steadily the
glistening mountain of hair grew. Then came the razor. Stroke
after stroke the smooth sliding sensation advanced across her
head, until finally she felt his hand sliding over the smooth
denuded dome of her skull. She wanted to look in a mirror,
yet at the same time was afraid of what she would see. In the
end he gave her no chance and led her to the bedroom.

Alicia looked down to see a new transparent suit. It was pretty
much the same and somehow she felt disappointed that it wasn't
something really special.

As they worked the suit off, her earlier disappointment melted
away. It was special. It was at least one, possibly two sizes
smaller. In addition it seemed to have a hood attached that
would complete her enclosure and seal her shorn head inside a
capsule of compressing latex. It took them an hour to fully
work the all-encompassing rubber to a wrinkle free second skin
and even at that stage Alicia felt a searing heat as she moved
and felt the novelty of her recently denuded mons working
against the sheath. Benson had foregone the normal powdering
to ease the fitting. Instead he had insisted that she be coated
with a liberal layer of KY jelly. Alicia tested her mobility and
almost swooned at the effect as the crushing latex embrace
moved life-like over her body in a flowing sensuous glide. It
was an exquisite feeling. She flexed her fingers in the tight
wrinkle free gloves; unlike the other suits, this one was complete
and the skin fit gloves finalized her total enclosure.


ILLUSTRATION 15


Benson worked the hood up over her head, then in one slow
continuous movement pulled the zipper from her waist to
somewhere at the back of her neck. The latex flowed and
stretched, compressing her inwards and moulding her body
with seductive irresistible power.

The hood proved to be open faced and formed a frame of
rubber that ran across her forehead and down either side of
the eyes before traversing horizontally to pass over her lower
lip. A round hole in the mouth covering section left her in no
doubt that there were other additions programmed for the near
future.

Benson took time off to walk around her, checking that all
was in order. As he moved around emitting noises of approval,
she turned her eyes to the remaining items on the bed. They
were also transparent. Most appeared to be moulded items
made from some sort of semi-flexible urethane plastic. There
were calf length boots, those she could recognize, the others
defied her attempts to identify. The boots went on next and
Alicia noticed that even the laces were of clear plastic. Then
Caldwell was behind her with one of the mystery items, drawing
her arms backward and feeding them into some sort of pocket
device. As the laces drew in and her shoulders were forcibly
drawn back the truth dawned. It was an arm sheath. She
grunted as he heaved on the laces and felt her elbows meet.
There was some fiddling about as he threaded other items and
then came the crushing finality of inescapable restraint as
transparent over straps drew tight, biting and compressing until
her arms were welded into a single unit. A broad plastic belt
that was seemingly attached to the arm sheath device
encompassed her waist and as he cinched her in, she felt the
sheathed wrists pulled powerfully into the small of her back.
There was a thin lace dangling from the centre at the front
and Alicia looked down as he carefully aligned it with the rubber
compressed line of her love cleft then fed it through the crotch.
A movement on the sheath encased pocket encapsulating her
hands indicated some form of connection, then the lace drew
in as her fingers were pulled down. Involuntarily she tried to
flex her mittened hands, only to feel the mons cutting lace
pull even deeper into her cleft. It was an incredible sensation
to feel her limbs so totally controlled.

The blade formed by her mated palms was nestling tightly
into the upper cleavage of her bottom and as she moved forward
she could feel her flexing buttocks massaging her hands through
the constricting latex. Benson halted her experimental stroll
and brought a new fixture up to her neck.

Stiff and unyielding, the pre-formed clear plastic collar took
some time to work into place and as the final fasteners closed,
Alicia found herself held with head erect and stiffly immovable,
her throat encased with vice like integrity. The collar jerked
down to seat firmly into her shoulders and she realized that
Benson had connected the upper reaches of the arm sheath to
a fixing on the collar. There was no way any of her restraints
could work loose. She was tightly bound, completely helpless
and displayed in a most provocative manner until someone
chose to release her.

He stooped down out of sight and awkwardly, Alicia bent
forward to watch as he affixed an ankle hobble. Again it was
all transparent. The cuffs and a connecting strap were of the
same tough unbreakable polypropylene plastic.

It seemed that Benson had finished his creative period and
she watched with interest as he advanced with a cloth and a
small bottle of what appeared to the baby oil. Alicia couldn’t
Suppress the moan of pleasure as he began to coat her entire
form and polish the latex to a glistening shine. He worked
like a man with a mission and by the time he'd complete his
task, Alicia was awash with the juices of her own arousal.

Benson placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently
towards a mirror. Half afraid of what she would see, Alicia
strutted over on the five inch heels, hampered by the hobble
and forced to take small steps. The image came into view and
she stood frozen with shock as she surveyed the new Alicia
Berkeley. Not a single inch of her entire form had been left
private. The suit and its attendant fittings displayed her
blatantly, shaping and sculpting her body into hourglass
perfection, lifting and thrusting her breasts forward like two
hemispherical melons. The bisecting cord running from gloved
finger tips to waist sliced into her mons and enhanced the
cleft of her sex, projecting the fleshy denuded peaches of her
love lips in a segmented lewdly suggestive display. Every
movement brought new visions of heightened erotic delight as
her flesh squirmed and slithered provocatively inside the all
encompassing rubber. Her whole body resembled the tightly
compressed effect achieved by shrink wrapping a plucked
Christmas turkey.

Then the returning realization that this complex extravaganza
was designed for public display sent shivers of apprehension
racing through her body.

Entranced by her image and the surreal smooth dome of a
shorn head, Alicia hardly noticed as the final item was offered
up. Her mouth opened and a large transparent strap gag with
a throat nudging phallic fitting snugged into her receptive oral
cavity, filling and stifling as he worked it in. The strap drew
tight; and as he tugged, she saw her cheeks bulge over the
upper edge as a powerful compressive force cinched the silencer
tight into her face: It was almost like a dream. Alicia could
hardly believe it was really happening.

The trip down into the underground parking bay was almost
over before she realized that it was too late to turn back. In a
state of erotic shock, she hadn't realized that she was uncaped,
or even noticed the other staff in the building as they drew
back and stood open mouthed at her passing. Benson had the
bit between his teeth and she knew that even if she tried to
back out, he would insist; and she would meekly comply. The
power of her lust was too strong to deny. Any refusal now was
doomed to be swept away in a tidal wave of erotic compulsion
that was far too strong for her to fight. All it required was for
him to say she must do it and her fully developed masochistic
tendencies would do the rest.

Fearful of what was to come, Alicia sat motionless and staring
straight ahead as the car made its way through downtown traffic.
Already she was aware of boggle eyed stares as they stopped at
traffic lights, although she was still mostly concealed by the
surrounding body-work of the car. The trepidation rose to
terrifying levels as Benson swung into a side alley off Main
street. This is where it would all begin. It was a dead end and
there could be only one reason for pulling in here. This was
the spot that Caldwell had chosen to for her make her public
debut as an owned item.

Alicia sat mystified when Benson remained seated after the
car had drawn to a stop. There was no attempt to get out and
move around to her door. Instead he reached over her, flipped
the handle and swung the door open.

“Time for the final test Alicia. This is the big one. Pass this
and you're mine forever.”

She hesitated as the fear welled up within, then taking a deep
breath, eased herself out of the car and stood nervously glancing
around to see if anyone was looking. Mercifully the alley was
empty. She turned back as the door slammed and with
widening eyes saw him winding down the window. The
realization that he wasn't getting out struck fear into her heart.
He read her thoughts and smiled.


ILLUSTRATION 16


“No, I'm not coming Alicia. This one you do on your own.
Go out of here, take a right and walk down Main till you get to
5th. Go along 5th and turn left into King Edward Boulevard,
then on to West. That is if you get that far.”

Alicia shook her head as best she could, her eyes pleading as
the route he prescribed led her through the main shopping
precincts and the most heavily peopled streets. She made
noises as if to protest and he correctly interpreted her fear.

“That's right sweet cheeks, you will be arrested. The final test
is that you go back to prison for me. That's what I want; and
if you want me, that’s the price you pay.”

He paused to let the enormity of that sink in.

“When they get you to court you plead guilty when they charge
you with lewd behaviour and you claim it was a dare. You got
that?”

Tearfully Alicia nodded, her eyes still pleading for him to rethink
her test. But he remained unmoved by her entreaties.

“You opt for the public defender instead of your own attorney;
me that is... With luck that klutz Jim Blakely will land you
with three months in the open prison at Holbeach. I'll be
waiting when you come out and don’t worry. I have friends in
there waiting for you to arrive, you'll be looked after.”

Alicia continued to shake her head, tears rolling down her
cheeks and nostrils flaring as she tried to plead past the gag.
Suddenly he threw the door back open.


ILLUSTRATION 17


“Your choice sweet cheeks. You either do this for me, or get
back in and it’s all over.”

Alicia stood shaking with emotion, her mind torn by indecision.
Afraid and vulnerable she stood resplendent in her incredibly
erotic exposure; bound, gagged and sculpted to a magnificent
edifice of latex encapsulated female extravagance. Not a single
millimetre of her body was hidden from lusting eyes; worse
still she was sheathed in the kinkiest medium ever known to
man and tarted up like a cheap tramp. Her eyes darted to the
alley’s end as people walked by, then back to her tormentor.
She was ravaged by doubts, yet already conscious of the fact
that she would be unable to resist the challenge. Alicia knew
that she would be walking out in public within a very short
time. The forces of lustful contemplation were gathering
impetus within her form.

She knew that to maintain this incredible flow she would have
to capitulate both to him and to her need for the ultimate
humiliation. There was no other way. Alicia Berkeley had to
choose to obey and pay his price so that she could become his
personal toy, his sex ornament; his possession.

With a final desperate pleading look that was more instinctive
than intended, she turned to face the alley entrance, driven by
forces she still didn’t fully understand. With a surge of carnal
adrenaline to boost her resolve, she declined the open door
and began moving forward towards the main street with
faltering foreshortened steps. At that instant the final
struggling flame of her instinctive rebellion flickered and died
forever.

Benson could have called her back. As soon as she refused the
open door he knew she had made the conversion. But given
the view through the windshield and the searing heat in his
groin as she strutted, revealed, bound and helpless, towards an
ordeal of crushing humiliation, he just couldn't find the
willpower to override his own carnal needs.

He watched her do, marveling at the sheer poetry of her
polished rippling latex bound body as she minced onward with
ever increasing conviction, her divine rump cavorting from
side to side, rubber flexing and moulding around the swaying
flare of her hips as she tried to cope with the skyscraper heels.
The tight reduction of the broad belt was a masterful stroke
that presented her lower body almost as a separate entity, flaring
and rounding out to those delicious animated buttocks in a
way that enhanced her sexuality and femininity tenfold. Alicia
was a surreal and inviting sight as she swaggered her rolling
hips down the alley, the skyscraper heels producing loud clicking
accompaniment to the vision of loveliness.

She paused for a second at the alley mouth and glanced back,
treating him to an exquisite profile view of her latex sculpted
form, then, boldly facing the gathering crowd of shocked
onlookers, she turned the corner and was gone. Stunned by
the realization that she had actually gone through with it; hardly
able to accept that he had really succeeded, Benson suddenly
jerked from the inactivity and sprang from the car. He sprinted
to the corner and slithered to a halt as he searched for her
figure. It wasn’t hard to locate. The crowds parted leaving an
avenue of incredulous faces staring after the strutting apparition
that was by now some fifty yards distant, her body glittering
and flashing with shards of fight as she moved on.

Caldwell followed, watching avidly as Alicia gained more
confidence with each step. She was strutting like a peacock,
head forcibly held at an arrogant angle; clearly savouring the
licentious effect of the staring faces as they visually plundered
her displayed form. She took Main and 5th by storm. The
streets became packed as the following throng swelled with
every step she took. Benson had his work cut out to stay as a
front runner. But hell freezing over couldn’t have prevented
him from witnessing this glorious demonstration of Alicia's
final capitulation. He saw her stagger and for a second was
concerned. Only then did he realize that the immense stimulus
of her humiliation had engineered a first orgasm even as she
moved. Men positioned ahead of her path whooped and jeered
as they witnessed her explosive convulsions. He could only
guess at the effect of the suit; .. but even his wildest estimate
would have been far behind the massive sexual input she was
in fact experiencing. Endowed with thousands less nerve
endings in his sexual organs, mortal man could only guess at
the heights available to a woman who was prepared to indulge
in the gifts of birth.

The crotch cord was the stroke of a genius. No matter how
she adjusted her walk or tried to ease the tension by forcing
down her arms, the devilish ligament conspired to massage
the sensitive inner reaches of her labial mound with a mind
blowing oiled latex touch that could not be denied. Her
thousands of extra nerve endings were conspiring to generate
a storm of response that was already of immense destructive
power. The mere act of trying to ease her enforced arousal
added more fuel. Forcing down her arms to ease the cord’s
tension in effect thrust her boobs even further out on display
and drew lurid suggestions from the male onlookers that merely
pandered to her masochistic arousal. Whatever she did simply
served to enhance her tarty image or extract even more sensual
messages from her limitless store of licentious sensations. The
scarlet wide stretched lips of her sensuous mouth, long false
eyelashes he had insisted she wear and heavy mascara were
only trimmings to the overall image. Her body was pulsing
erotically within the confines of the suit; flowing like pure
liquid lust inside the taut stretched wrinkle free cocoon of her
transparent rubber sheath.

Already she was turning into the boulevard and for a while it
looked as if she would actually get away with it. The stunning
unbelievable sight was scrambling brains and no-one seemed
to have thought to inform the police that something strange
was going on. Alicia, unbeknown to Benson, was having much
the same thoughts and afraid that her efforts may fail in the
final analysis, she increased the odds against reaching her goal
unchallenged by the forces of law and order.

Astounded at the turn of events, Caldwell watched as she swung
off the sidewalk and made her way between hooting cars to the
centre-line of the road. At random intervals she stopped and
became a rigidly quivering statue of exploding orgasmic
splendour, then regaining her control, calmly continued as cars
swerved left and right to avoid her scintillatingly hound form.
She was already turning into West street when the urgent wail
of sirens heralded the approach of the law. With a screech of
tortured rubber, two black and whites slewed to a halt blocking
her path. Officers leapt out and grabbed her and at first Alicia
seemed content to be led to an open back door. Suddenly she
lashed out with a hobbled foot and unable to kick, viciously
jabbed her heel into the instep of the nearest officer. Benson's
mouth dropped open. What the hell was she doing?

Alicia vanished in a flurry of blue surge as angry law
enforcement officers moved in to contain her violent rejection
of their arrest. He watched heart in mouth as she reappeared,
lifted horizontal and now with her ankles tightly manacled
together. Carried shoulder high, her form was a frenzy of
activity, jerking jack-knifing, twisting, wriggling and despite
the best efforts of four officers, she managed to evade her
insertion into the back of the car. Then he understood. She
was his to do with as he wished, but the touch of another not
chosen to be her owner, was to her, a savage assault on her
body.

Three times they tried and three times they failed. Exhausted,
they carried her to the front of the car and laid her back across
the hood. Two held her shoulders down whilst the others
grappled with the flailing manacled legs as they forced them
down in front of the radiator. A spare pair of cuffs provided by
one officer were connected to the ankle cuffs and snapped to
the front fender.

“Where the hell is that paddy wagon Harry?

The cop who had climbed back into a car leaned out with a
hand mike in is grasp.

“They can’t get here for half an hour Jack. There's been a big
multiple fender-bender up on the freeway and they're stuck in
the middle.”

Harry tipped back his cap and scratched his forehead as he
looked down at the new hood ornament.

“Ah! What the hell. If she wants to play rough we can take
her down town as she is. Get that tow rope from the trunk.”

Open mouthed; hardly believing his incredible luck, Benson
watched avidly as they ran several turns around Alicia's upper
body and cinched it tight. Then the two ends were passed in
through the open windows. Improvising some sort slip knot
out of his line of vision, he saw the effects as the officers inside
mercilessly pulled it up tight. Alicia was forcibly yanked straight
and drawn stringently taut across the hood; stretched
impotently with her pussy arched upward, knees bent over the
front edge of the hood. Her ankles were furiously yanking at
the heavy brackets of the fender fixing, but to no avail. She
was helplessly pinioned and only the frantic humping of her
rubber sheathed love mound betrayed the fact that she wasn’t
just an add-on gimmick hood ornament. For a few minutes
they gathered around making sure that she was secure, feasting
their eyes on what promised to be the topic of conversation at
the precinct for some time.

“Give her a bit more Harry, she's still kicking slightly.”

Someone inside the car heaved at the truckers hitch, his pull
magnified by the special knot to exert three times a man's
strength and Alicia was tensioned into a quivering impotent
line of rippling latex.

“OK! Now let's trim her up a bit. Get all the restraints from
both cars, let's make sure she don't fall off.”

There was no chance of that, but none of the other officers
saw fit to question his wisdom. A pile of chains and cuffs
appeared as they set to work with relish. Two sets of leg irons
went on first, a cuff from each worked between the already
tightly secured ankles added a second ring of steel to each
limb. After much pulling and straining, they managed to
stretch the other cuffs out far enough to snap one each over
the outer fender brackets. Alicia's ankles were being subjected
to a two way restraint. Cuffed together and inseparable, then
cruelly yanked sideways by the outer cuffs to the minute extent
allowed by the inner set: they were most definitely manacled
and secure.

Another cop wrapped the lengthy walking chain of another set
twice around her upper calves and the cuffs snapped into the
radiator grill on each side. Finally, the last leg iron kit was
wrapped around the crush resisting polypropylene posture collar
that Benson had so thoughtfully supplied and then using the
combined sets of all the wrist cuffs they had between them,
the manacles on that were daisy chained to a wing mirror on
each side. The only thing fastened more securely to that black
and white was the paint.


ILLUSTRATION 18


“Now kick you bitch.”

Harry seemed delighted at the result.

“Hey! I’ve just realized who that is.”

One of the cops stood facing her his mouth gaping.

“That's Alicia Berkeley.”

The other cops gathered to confirm his identification.

“Hell! You're right! Well this time the stuck up broad is going
down for sure. Pity really! After seeing her at the trial, I
reckon she must be enjoying this.”

The cops climbed back in after moving the crowds back and
moving off slowly, they turned and began to head back
downtown, sirens and flashing lights guaranteed to ensure
maximum attention.

The bowed form arched and strained against her bonds and
watching closely as they passed, Benson could see that Alicia
was experiencing massive multiple orgasms as she was driven
away like a carnival show item. He almost ejaculated on the
spot as their eyes met for a second. She was imploring him to
help her, yet knowing and almost certainly hoping that she
was doomed to see the thing through to the end.

The rope cinches passed above and below her rubber sheathed
breasts and as a result squeezed and extruded them upward in
two vibrating mounds of pulsing flesh. The stringent arch of
her body had pulled the crotch cord deeply inwards and her
latex contained mons was cruelly bisected to become a quivering
matched pair of scintillating sheathed peach segments thrusting
skywards in splendid relief. Her powerful thigh muscles and
the flattened orbs of her buttocks pressed flat by the unyielding
hood were a sea of flexing activity, In fact the whole bound
display was a mass of slithering rubber encased erotica, all the
more exciting as Alicia's endless orgasmic convulsions sent
waves of sensuous movement flowing across the oil lubricated
surface of her sheathed form.


ILLUSTRATION 19


Later it was rumoured that the whole precinct station house
turned out to watch her being brought in and as a result she
spent forty five minutes strapped across the hood as they
laughed and leered at her uncontrollable sexual antics.

No one seemed to question the fact that they had chosen to
return the long way around. Alicia endured her stringent
exposure for sixteen blocks as the driver with the aching, stiletto
stomped foot took his revenge. All of a sudden he had become
endowed with an uncharacteristic politeness to pedestrians and
took great delight in observing every crossing meticulously;
savouring the humiliation of his hood decoration as the gawking
crowds filed past. Alicia couldn’t move a muscle as she was
subjected to mass voyeurism on a regular basis. Even more
humiliating was the fact that the big powerful V-8 Dodge engine
beneath her pinioned form was transmitting powerful vibrations
through her entire body; rather like those of a massive vibrator.
Alicia's suit was internally drenched with the secretions of her
masochistic arousal and she found herself helplessly
demonstrating the erotic effects of squirming writhing female
flesh inside a lubricated latex sheath. Every time the driver
revved to pull away, the increasing vibrations catapulted her
into another massive, horribly unwanted orgasm.


ILLUSTRATION 20


It was a fact reflected by court records that Alicia had spent
the night still displayed in her rig and chained vertically to the
bars of the holding cell as a cooling off measure. What was
not included in the records was the fact that chained with her
back to the bars of the adjoining cell, she suffered a long night
as hands reached through to encircle and maul her breasts.
Her buttocks, squeezed through the bars, were spanked and
abused by her unseen partners in detention. Conveniently,
the arresting officers saw fit to leave her sagged, so there was
no way she could call for help or complain. They even video
taped her still chained against the bars for evidence and once
in court she had to experience the whole humiliating scene
again as the jury watched.

The public defender turned out to be a gem of incompetence,
with the result that Alicia was found guilty on three counts.
Lewd behaviour and breach of the peace got her the expected
three months. Assaulting a police officer earned her a bans
three months. At least it was a bonus for Caldwell, but then
he knew her destination and had made prior arrangements.
The warden was an old friend and Alicia was destined to he
billeted with two known dykes. Given that she had been found
guilty of a violent offence in the assault verdict, it paved the
way for the warden to insist that she wore body chains. No
doubt the cell mates would find that helpful in their advances:
advances that Alicia would be unable to repel.


Chapter Eleven

Unexpected Delivery

The months passed. At first Caldwell had problems keeping
his mind off the distant date of release. But eventually the
pressure of work turned his mind to other things. For the
present at least, Alicia Berkeley became a distant memory,
without any real thought of what was happening to the woman
he had chosen to be his companion and toy.

Pausing at the window, Benson looked up from the documents
in his hand and stared down to the sidewalk. A UPF van had
just drawn up and idly he watched as the crew lifted out a
heavy crate. He thought no more of it as they vanished from
his field of view and was only reminded of its arrival as the
door opened and they struggled in. It was a solid looking crate
some four feet long and about eighteen inches square, with
markings for this way up that required it be stood on end.

“Expedited delivery for Benson Caldwell.”

Benson took the offered dispatch note and frowned at the
unexpected delivery. His eyes alighted on the origin and he
became even more puzzled. Holbeach Penitentiary? He
scribbled his signature on the note as he remembered the distant
almost forgotten Alicia, his mind running through the output
from the workshops of that establishment as he pondered the
contents of the crate. As far as he knew, the prisoners worked
at packaging contracts and as such didn’t actually produce an
end product. A sudden suspicion crossed his mind and casting
his eyes to the calendar, he saw that it was one day past the
ringed date for Alicia's release. A faint noise from the crate
confirmed his suspicions. With a trembling hand he reached
down and snapped off the plastic latch seals, then flipped the
toggle catches open. The front of the crate eased open and a
torrent of polystyrene packing chips flowed out. He pulled
the lid wide and stared transfixed by the contents.

Alicia had come home. Clad in the same outfit that he had
last seen her in, she hung silent and powerfully hog-tied in an
inverted mode. Her breasts and pussy were thrusting outward
in a tempting display, but as yet her face was invisible due to
the stringently drawn back format that left her facing the floor
of the crate. He rectified that with a small mirror from the
bathroom. Laying the mirror on the floor of the crate gave
both himself and the suspended woman a clear view of her
face.

He reached in hardly daring to believe that she was real and a
soft moan reassured him that she was. Yet despite the awesome
appeal of the rig he had fitted her into so many months ago,
her present method of enhanced restraint made it pale into
insignificance.

Armed with a whole range of complex packing equipment, the
inmates of Holbeach had chosen the banding machine for her
shipment. From neck to knees she was compressed into a
single homogenous unit of squirming femininity by the
powerfully cinched bands of unbreakable nylon strapping. A
bar running through the folded knees held her suspended from
a hook in the roof of the crate and as he touched her she
swivelled slightly but remained unmoving in any other area.
At four inch intervals her sheathed latex form was cinched
into deep grooves by the nylon and pressure crimped metal
buckles ensured that there was no release without cutting the
straps. Tentatively he ran his hands over the shining tautly
stretched rubber protrusions formed by the compression and
marvelled at the unyielding compactness of her body.

A document pouch stuck on her cinched buttock attracted his
attention and peeling it off, he pulled out the shipping notes,

Contents			1 of Sex Toy
Mode! 			Thing MK 1 (Ex Alicia Berkeley)
Weight 			86 Kgs Net
				104 Kgs Gross
Insurance value: 	Priceless

Obviously the girls at the penitentiary had a good sense of
humour. There was a letter attached so he opened it out and
began to read

Dear Mr Caldwell

You have our most sincere thanks for the loan of your toy
Our long stay in here has been somewhat eased by the presence
of Alicia.

In return for your generosity we have not only preserved her
in good condition, but have taken the liberty of advancing her
training in all manner of ways.

You will find that the half trained former Alicia Berkeley you
supplied initially is now a fully compliant female sex object,
willing to undertake anything you may ask of her.
Unfortunately; as a male, you had no real idea of the degree of
compliance to which she could be taken, or any concept of a
female's tolerance levels. The item we have returned will serve
as uncomplaining ornament, plaything, masturbation aid, or
pet, for as long as you wish. Our six month forced aerobics
training has made her pliable, flexible and basically able to
undertake the most stringent and contorted bondage
configurations imaginable. Given the wealth of talent residing
within our walls, we have also made use of an expert in the art
of piercing, you will find your new toy now has a wealth of new
attachments that are guaranteed to supply you with greater
control. It is important that all aspects of. her skills, attributes
and mental conditioning are used to the full or else she will
become lack lustre and provide poor service, Remember your
toy needs use in order to fulfil her own needs, be it denial or
the occasional indulgence allowed for her own needs.

Use her well and have fun.

Don't be alarmed by her packaging, this is just a mild example
of rigours she will undertake willingly in order to please you.

I would add that we still have a long stay ahead of us and if you
could see your way clear to loaning her back to us on a regular
basis, we would ensure that she receives refresher courses and
continues to remain a willing obedient personal item.

Yours most sincerely
Wilma Martel and Diane Sherrington.
Cell 807 Holstead Penitentiary.

PS. In case you wish to use her new name, we call her 'Thing'.
That may not seem important to you, but it is to her.


ILLUSTRATION 21


Benson lowered the note and stared at his magnificently
packaged conquest. It was hard to image that this crushed
latex sheathed package actually contained the vibrant shapely
figure of what had once been the arrogant Alicia Berkeley.
His mind ran riot at the trials and tribulations she must have
endured at the hands of her self-appointed trainers. Gently he
spun her round on the hook and studied her from all angles.
He was pleased to see that her temporary keepers had kept her
shaven and shorn of all hair. True to form, the sadistic nature
of female on female had even decreed that her eyebrows became
forfeit. He took time to inspect and savour every inch of her
totally immobilized plight. Immediately he discovered the
neatly ringed septum, her new nose ring was clearly visible
beneath the powerful indent of the transparent latex mouth
cinching strap. It was hardly a delicate decorative item. ‘Thing’
had a thick serviceable bull ring to keep her under control,
although he suspected it was more for her mental conditioning
than a requirement necessary to enforce a command. Its weight
was a powerful permanent reminder of her new status.

Multi-eyeleted lips, also visible through the transparency of
the polypropylene gad gave an option in methods of keeping
her silent. Her nipples had also received the treatment, but
on closer inspection could be seen to be capped and completely
engulfed by tiny hell-like covers, each held in place by bar-
bells that were inserted through side holes after fitting. Given
that he had sampled those generous nodules in the past, he
was fully aware that the caps were far smaller than anything
that could be considered a comfortable fit. Her nipples must
have been forced into the crushing confines of the bells and
no doubt were being subjected to a constant excruciating throb.

Obviously the desired effect was to prevent her reaching any
sort of sell-engineered orgasm by working her nodules against
the latex and neutralizing the possibility of any sensual feeling
by keeping them in a constant state of painful compression.
The clitoris was equally well neutralized and contained in its
own bell, albeit of a different design. Alicia's clit bell was open
at both ends, although the outer opening was small enough to
allow only the tip to swell through and then in effect crimp the
fleshy appendage as it tried to pull back. Her tender nodule
had been dragged through the elongated bell then pinned by
three tiny transverse barbells arranged along its forcibly
extended length. Stretched to an inch and a half and squeezed
into horrendous compression, there was no chance of it
transmitting any form of pleasure. Nearby, unused lace eyelets
down both edges of her sculpted pussy lips gave the option to
lace her up tight. He had no doubt, given the thoroughness of
her indoctrination, that her neat tight butt hole had a similar
facility and fully expected to find her tongue eyeleted and
equipped for attachments should she ever prove difficult to
silence. The women of Holbeach were undoubtedly experts at
female control. When all put together it was clear that Alicia,
or ‘Thing’ as she was known, had been prepared in such a way
as to guarantee complete denial of her sexual needs. She could
be sealed up and desensitized so as to ensure that she remained
as a self-generating bomb of unexploded lust: devoid of any
method of self-detonation. Like a huge living accumulator
she was forced to keep storing the carnal input of her own
masochistic arousal, incapable of any form of sexual release
until her owner detonated her for his own pleasure. It was a
diabolically cruel fate for such a lasciviously active woman as
Alicia, but Benson mentally thanked the Lord for woman's
sadistic inventiveness when it came to preparing one of their
own. He stroked the rippling latex as he mused to himself.

“Couldn't have happened to a better woman.”

The packaged Alicia pulsed powerfully under his exploring
fingers.

Benson decided to start charging the human sex battery.

His hands wandered freely over her compressed form, yet no
matter how much he petted and rodded, the cinched woman
never attained anything greater than a slight surface flexing.
It gave him great pleasure to think about the effects of his
touch on those three magnificently contained nodules. By
now they would be excruciatingly pressurized with the renewed
arousal instigated by his tormenting fingers. Spinning her
back to the front, he touched the bisected pussy and could feel
massive contractions of submissive need despite the awesome
compression of rubber and cord. The visible end of her clitoris
supplied proof of his speculation as it expanded and turned a
deep shade of purple. Alicia’s plight was so deliciously sadistic
and yet she would remain unmarred, her flawless skin
undamaged in any way. Her torment was far greater than a
hundred whiplashes could ever hope to achieve.

A brief flash of something foreign deep in the cleft caught his
attention and prising the pulsing latex sculpted lips apart, he
was rewarded with the sight of a massive dildo nestling almost
hidden in her love tube. It was there to stay. The sheathing of
the rubber suit and the cord were ample safeguards against its
expulsion. Benson couldn't know that far from being an
ordinary dildo, it was endowed with thousands of tiny holes
and a hollow core. Once inserted, it was connected to a vacuum
pump and depressurized. In effect, the entire length of Alicia's
super sensitive vagina was sucked tightly to its surface and
incapable of attaining any friction that could end her carnal
hunger. The cruel irony of it all was that it was the smooth
perfection of her own channel which provided a seal and
maintained the strong vacuum. Her entire love tube and pussy
lips were paralyzed by their enforced grip on the steel insert.

It would seem that Diane Sherrington was a sadistic genius,
as Alicia had found out to her cost when her pussy had been
vacuum packed. Immobilized by the awesome suction, yet
stretched and filled to levels that ensured arousal, her pussy
had already been sexually charging her for a day whilst in transit.
Her entire body was a seething super parcelled latex wrapped
carnal bomb screaming for someone to light the fuse.
Everything they had done to her body was designed to inflame
and utilize her natural masochistic instincts.

He turned her again and after some strenuous finger work was
able to worm in between the hot luscious strap bisected
buttocks, indented by impacted heels. Parting the cruelly
cinched bottom lobes sufficiently to peer in confirmed that
she was rectally impaled as well. Poor Alicia was well stuffed
and of course he had no idea that her rear passage was just as
tightly sucked to the rear dildo. In fact, her rectal plug extended
some ten inches into her body and almost the whole length of
her lower colon was powerfully bonded to the intruding shaft.
He rear passage was stiffly demobilized, effectively straitjacketed
and sealed as effectively as if she been poured full of concrete.

Diane, in a fit of mischievous intent had conveniently left
details of the vacuum dildos out. It would be interesting to
see if her new owner managed to turn ‘Thing’ inside out before
he discovered that something was holding them in.

Benson also discovered that his earlier assumption was correct.
The tautly stretched anal ring had a full set of eyelet’s just
begging to be used and he knew that sometime in the near
future he was really going to enjoy lacing her up and then
drawing her pert little ass ring up tight like the neck of a gunny
sack.

After a moment's thought he reached for the open crate lid.

“Sorry Alicia. I have no tools here to get you out and anyway
I have work to do. I'll just re-pack you for now and have the
office porter deliver you home. He can park your crate in the
lounge till I get there. I shouldn’t be too late.”

The trussed woman mewed faintly but accepted her fate. There
was no way she could affect his decision in any way and that
made it all the more devastatingly arousing.

“Oh! By the way, Wilma and Diane want you back sometime,
so we'll have to arrange for you to revisit them in about a
month or so.”

The superbly packed dangling parcel of womanhood seemed
to swell and pulse as her insistent stifled moans rose to fever
itch. She was frightened of being returned to the capable
hands of women who would push her beyond the limits. Yet
she knew that he could parcel her up at any time and send her
back and she would agree to let him do it; if that was what he
wanted. The will to resist even the most demanding task was
beyond her power; eradicated forever by those skillful dykes.

Even as he watched the inverted pussy leeched more syrupy
liquid into the confining capsule of latex covering the sheathed
outer lips of her labia. Every word he spoke inflamed her
captive form with a fiery breath and the thought of being
delivered back to her trainers had her pussy erupting with the
lava of unspeakable lusting sensation. She knew he was
deliberately highlighting the totality of her reduction to a
useable object of pleasure and was powerless to make even the
smallest twitch in protest at anything he decreed for her. The
knowledge that she would willingly allow him to return her to
this inescapable bundle of compacted lust simply enhanced
the exquisite sensations of pleasure as the full impact of her
capitulation washed over her in a sea of all engulfing self
indulgence. It felt good to be an owned object, safe and
protected from the woes of life, but such feelings had their
drawbacks in a fully converted masochist, as ‘Thing’ was
desperately trying to demonstrate.

During packing, Wilma had taken great delight in explaining
what she had become. They had converted her into a living
machine. All one had to do was put food in one end and
Alicia the machine converted it to sexual pleasure. The
machine was reasonably efficient in that it only burned part of
the pleasure to run itself. The rest could be stored or drawn
off by the owner whenever they wished. Then they had
completed the packing and, just like a new battery, gave the
living machine an initial charge by leaving her hanging for all
the inmates to prod and tease. For two foie she had hung
exposed and rigidly banded as they taunted her with visions of
what would be done to her; then she was crated and dispatched
in a highly advanced state of arousal.

Benson started to close the lid on a mewing insanely pulsating
form and smiled to himself as his last view afforded a sight of
the slight swinging movement achieved by her futile attempts
to relieve the mounting pressure of her need. He paused for a
last look. Like a chameleon, her body was changing to a flushed
red hue and the bulging heavily packed, thoroughly gagged
facial features were becoming crimson and heavily veined with
her titanic efforts. Her packers had tightened the gag to levels
far beyond anything he would have dared try. That, when
added to her bulging eyes gave a vivid impression of something
that was about to explode. Poor Alicia. What a diabolically
lustful sight she was. The more she strained and pleaded, the
more delightfully explosive her features became. It was a self
defeating effort that merely strengthened his resolve to keep
her as she was so that he could savour her breathtakingly helpless
image. No doubt Alicia realized that as the mirror reflected a
perfect view of her own impossibly silenced face; but she had
to try so as to feed his sadistic enjoyment and her own
masochistic arousal at seeing the inescapable impossibility of
her bondage. Of course there was always the forlorn hope that
he just might take pity and give her the release from anguish
of denial that she so desperately needed. The mere thought
caused her boiling lust to wane slightly. It was an impossible
situation. She needed to be denied in order to savour the
exquisite sensations coursing through her body. At the same
time there was a desperate need for her sexual hunger to be
fulfilled. It was a ‘Catch 22’ situation of staggering potential.

Leaving the lid slightly ajar, he decided to let her contemplate
her own demise as he thought over his itinerary for the day.
The visual input of her deadlocked hanging plight could only
be to his advantage. Benson consulted his diary as Alicia
continued to pulse pathetically. Providing the dinner
engagement he had booked in his reminder didn’t drag on till
the small hours, he could be home by twelve. But then that
would mean driving back the same way the next day to another
appointment in the same area. To hell with it. ‘Thing’ was
safely packed. Another forty-eight hours was neither here nor
there. He decided to stay overnight and travel home the
following evening. Anyway, it was pleasant to contemplate
the solitude of that cinched latex sheathed bundle of denial
waiting patiently for his return, whenever that may be. Pity
she wasn’t laced and sealed as well, but that was an oversight
he would remedy next time he packed her for storage. There
was a four day trip scheduled for New Orleans in a fortnight,
he'd make sure she was packed correctly for that one. It was
going to be most enjoyable lacing and sealing her body as
opposed to an outer sheath. Somehow it enhanced the image
of Alicia as a living container: a warm hermetically sealed
female sack in which to store all his sexual pleasures. The lid
began to close and she made a last titanic effort inside her
darkening prison. Mocked by the purpling image of her own
face as she strained Alicia put every ounce of effort into a last
ditch battle to gain her release. It availed her nothing other
than a thirty second respite as he paused and savoured the
effects of her efforts. Thing heard the snap fasteners closing
on her impotised, desensitized plight as her cruelly imprisoned
sex nodules refused to respond to their mandate as triggers to
her carnal eruption. Numbed and impotent, nipples and clit
strained to burst from the crushing metal confines as her breasts
pressurized still further with the pounding blood of upward
spiraling libido.

Benson tapped the crate lightly as he completed her repackaging
and smiled.

See you in a couple of days ‘Thing’. Then I'll let you discharge
on the turntable. I'm at home all day so you can provide
round the clock entertainment.” Unseen, unheard, the plastic
cinched female parcel expanded and bulged with writhing
torment as the carnal pressure notched up still further.


The End
