Twink Bondage Stories

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Twink Bondage Stories


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Part one: Bright, early morning sunlight streamed through the open blinds of the window in Carol's bedroom. Suddenly, with a start, the teenage girl sat up in her bed. She'd slept in! Why hadn't her alarm clock woke her up? As the young woman looked around her room, eyes blinking in the clear, early morning light, she suddenly remembered she had school off today, and had turned off her alarm the night before, so she could sleep in. Carol lay back down on the bed, trying to decide whether or not she should get up, or try to go back to sleep. Her stomach growled loudly and Caroled realized she was starving. Breakfast it is. She thought. Carol threw off the sheets of her bed to reveal her light blue pajamas. She quickly changed into a t-shirt and some shorts and pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail. She could take care of everything else after she'd gotten something to eat. The smell of coffee assailed Carol's nose as she entered the kitchen. Her mom was already up and finishing her breakfast. "Good Morning." She said, as she saw Carol enter. "I was wondering if you were ever going to get up." Carol grunted vaguely, and walked over to the pantry to get her cereal. She filled a bowl and splashed a bit milk on it, then sat down at the table next to her mother. "I hope you'll be alright by yourself today." Carol's mom said, as Carol began eating. "I'll be at work all day, and I probably won't be home until late this evening. We're close to a breakthrough." Carol's ears perked up. Her mom was always hesitant to talk about what she did at work. Despite Carol's prying, her mom had never told her what went on at the lab where she worked. To her disappointment, her mom didn't go any further on what this "breakthrough" might be. "There's plenty of food in the pantry and the fridge. You can have whatever you want, just don't burn the house down, or anything. Maybe you can invite your friend Ashley over as well…" Carol nodded, grunting appropriately, not really listening to her mother. Her mind was already filled with the possibilities a whole day to herself might offer. She finished her cereal and put the bowl in the sink. Carol turned and suddenly screamed, as much from shock as fright. A masked man was standing at the doorway to the kitchen. Carol's mother turned and gasped as she saw what Carol was screaming about. She leapt up as the man entered and pulled out a pistol. "Not another word, ladies." The man growled, menacingly. "I'm not here to hurt you, but I will if you push me. So keep quiet, understand?" Carol nodded hurriedly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother nodding to. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear. Carol knew she probably looked the same. "Now, put your hands on your heads and step up against the wall, facing it, where I can see you." The man ordered, gesturing with the barrel of his gun. Hurriedly, Carol complied, stepping up to the wall and putting her hands on the back of her head. A second later, her mom joined her. The man stepped up behind the two women. Carol twisted around, trying to see what he was doing. "Eyes forward, girl. Study the wall paper." He growled at her. Carol stifled a gasp and turned back to the wall. By now, the shock of a masked intruder had faded. Fear had replaced it. "Put your wrists behind your back, crossed." The man ordered. Carol complied, knowing what was coming next. He was going to tie them up. She felt gloved hands grab her wrists and a plastic zip tie was slipped over them and pulled tight. Not enough to hurt, but enough that she knew she wouldn't be able to slip them free. Carol waited while her captor secured her mother the same way. Then, she heard the groan of furniture against the floor as the intruder pushed the kitchen table back. She wanted to turn around and see what he was doing, but didn't want to risk antagonizing him again. "Alright. Turn around and sit on the chairs." The man ordered. Carol turned and saw that he'd cleared a space in the middle of the kitchen for two chairs, which sat side by side. He'd also closed all of the blinds of the windows, lest a neighbor happen to glance in and see the two captive women. Slowly, Carol sat down in one, her arms now trapped up against the back of the chair by her upper body. The intruder had set a red gym bag on the kitchen table. He reached into it and pulled out several coils of rope. He started on Carol, first, tying her to the chair with skill. A coil of rope went around her chest and the back of the chair, pinning her against it and trapping her arms even more. Two short lengths of rope soon bound her ankles to the chair legs. As the intruder turned to tie her mother the same way, Carol explored her bonds. As expected, they were tied with expert skill, tight enough she could tell right away she wasn't moving until he let her, without being so tight they hurt. Meanwhile, the masked man had dug into his bag again and pulled out several brightly colored bandanas. Two of these, he knotted in the middle. He set those down and picked up a third and scrunched it into a tight wad. The man turned to Carol. "Open up." He said. "No…please, you don't have to gag me…" Carol pleaded. "Please…I'll be good. I won't say a word." "Sorry, but I can't take that chance." The man said. Carol kept begging. Ignoring her protests, the man waited until Carol's mouth was at its widest and suddenly stuffed the wad into her open mouth, most of it went in, but about half still stuck out of her mouth. Before Carol could try and spit the wadding out, the man pocked it all the way in with one hand as he picked up one of the knotted bandanas. He stuffed the knot in Carol's mouth, pushing it past her teeth, and knotted it tight. He turned and did the same thing with Carol's mother. She'd seen protesting was futile, and accepted her gag without protest. The man stepped back for a second, to admire his two bound and gagged captives. Carol took the opportunity to get her first good look at him as well. The first thing that struck her was how young he was. He didn't look to be much older than Carol herself, somewhere in his early twenties. He was dressed in casual clothes that wouldn't have looked out of place anywhere, save for the black mask over his head. Because of that, she couldn't see any of his features. With his captives bound and gagged and not likely to try anything, he'd put his gun away, which helped lessen some of Carol's fears. "Sorry I had to tie you ladies up," The man said. "But I've got my orders. You don't have to worry, I'm not going to hurt you or rape you and I'm not here to steal anything. I've just got to keep you from leaving the house before six o'clock this evening. After that, I'll leave and call the police to come untie you. Just stay calm, do what I tell you, and you'll be no worse for the wear and have a nice story to tell your friends." Suddenly his voice got grim. "On the other hand, I will do whatever it takes to see to it you don't leave. And if you keep trying to escape, I might have to resort to more drastic measures, and believe me, you don't want that." He raised his hands placating as both his captives moaned into their gags in fear. "choice is yours, ladies. I'm just saying that you better behave yourselves." That said, Carol's captor found another chair and set it facing his captives. He reached into his bag and pulled out a dog eared paper back and settled down to wait. Carol wriggled a bit in her bonds. Already, her mouth had gone dry from the gag. A few minutes later, Carol had to concede defeat. With her hands bound with the zip tie, nothing short of cutting it would get it off, and without her hands free, she'd have no chance of untying any of her other bonds. Even if she could somehow get her bonds loose, with her captor sitting there in front of them, waiting, shed have no chance of slipping away or finding a phone to call the police, with a groan into her gag, she settled down as best she could in her chair to wait as well…

It had all started out so innocently: Beth was hanging out with her two friends Amanda and Jill, lounging around Jill’s bedroom, sharing cute pictures and funny videos. At one point, Jill just so happened to show the other two a video titled: Escape Artist Fails. Among the clips in the compilation were several of people trying and, of course, failing to get out of a straitjacket. “Ha! I can’t believe they’re having such a difficult time.” Beth said, laughing. “It doesn’t look that hard…” “Really?” Jill said, slyly. “You think you could get out of one if you had to?” “Of course.” Beth replied, still assuming this was nothing but a hypothetical question. “I’ve seen people do it before. You just need to get your head under the first arm and you’re set.” Like the others, she was a cheerleader and did gymnastics and was pretty flexible. “You want to make a bet of it?” Jill asked, a note of triumph entering her voice as she saw her plan coming to fruition. “What?” Beth
Lilian's attacker finally spoke after a few minutes of what she assumed was his admiring his work. "Wow, I can't believe I've finally gotten you...." he said. Lilian let out a questioning "Mmmrph?" and that seemed to shake him back to reality a bit. He spoke again. "I'm sorry if I was a little rough with you before. I don't want to hurt you, I just want to take some pictures and video of you like this and a couple of other positions, and then I'll be gone." Again, a questioning "Mrph?" from Lilian, who felt a little better that he said he wasn't going to hurt her, but was wondering why he was doing this to her. "I can't say much now, bu
Lilian couldn't wait to explore the possibilites of the day when she got home.  The striking blonde was on her way home from a day of her favorite pastime, shopping.  She was wearing her favorite outfit: a short-sleeve top that showed plenty of cleavage, a short black leather mini-skirt, and her favorite pair of boots, a black suede pair that had 4 inch heels and came up to a few inches over her knees.  Boots were one of her two passions in life, and she felt like she hit the jackpot with her two purchases today.  She'd gotten a gorgeous pair of the softest leather knee-high boots at Aldo.  Th
    Jennifer Portman was an attractive woman. She had long shiny red hair, green eyes,
and a great figure. She was a good person. She was always there for her friends and family.
Helped anyone she could. Her life was going great, until one afternoon. She heard a cry
coming from an allyway. "No, please, don't hurt me!" Jennifer had a sense of justice.
Whoever was torminting that poor girl was going to pay for it. She was going to give them a
piece of her 1st degree black belt in Shotokahn. When she arrived in the alleyway she saw a
muscular guy grabbing at a small woman. "Please, I'll do anything you ask just don't hurt
me!" She
Part one of what I think will be a short three part series. Hope you like it.
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Great job describing the binding and gagging. And excellent job not only describing how it felt physically and mentally, but also the dread and horrible anticipation of when it's about to happen.

Up to now, Miss Spiteful had worked to my tolerances but not exceeded them. That was about to change!
I was lying spread-eagled, my arms and legs tightly secured with ropes that dragged them wide apart. I was gagged and she had connected my genitals to her electrical device. She had moved a chair to sit beside me, the device on her lap. The session was only just half way over. "This is what you came for, slave" she smiled, "Electrical Torture!" She caressed and teased my nipples and I saw them grow firm and hard in anticipation of what she was about to do to me. "You remember my web site, slave - no concession for wimps?" I nodded and grunted to indicate agreement. "You also remember that my electrics can go from "barely perceptible" to "screamingly dreadful?" Again I grunted. "Well, it's now far too late for you to have regrets." She laughed, "Now I am going to really hurt you. It is going to be dreadful - and you will scream!"
Her hands moved to the device's controls. "First we'll establish your "limits" She switched on the device. "I want you to grunt the moment you feel any sensation." She turned the intensity control a fraction and I grunted as I felt a barely perceptible tingling in my genitals.
"Good. Now I want you to remain silent until you really can't take any more!" As she advanced the control the sensation turned from pleasant trembling to pain and then to unbearable pain. I cried aloud behind the gag in wild protest as the shocks grabbed my genitals. She noted the setting on the dial and nodded, satisfied, and switched it off. Instantly the pain vanished.

"I am just going to check your ability to stand that much, slave." She turned on the device again and once more advanced the intensity until I was begging desperately for her to have mercy. "Did I hear you trying to beg for mercy, slave? I'm afraid I shall enjoy this far too much to even consider giving you any mercy!" She switched on the device again, allowing the shocks to be stimulating without real pain. "This time the level will go beyond your limits so that I can check how much is needed to have you screaming!" The needle on the dial moved up.
I begged her to stop, to grant relief from the pain ripping my testicles and penis. She smiled, pleased. The needle went on moving. My body began jerking and struggling in its bondage. I was screaming, the agony truly unbearable. Screaming again and then again! The pain stopped and I lay gasping and shuddering. "One more thing for you to learn, slave," she snapped, "there will be pauses between the sequences of pain and during those pauses you will not attempt to speak or plead. I only want to hear you whimpering or sobbing: nothing more. Do you understand?" I tried to say I did but the gag distorted the words into muffled sounds. "Good," she said, "because if you disobey I shall punish you."
She paused and looked at me, her face seraphic and smiling. "Just so that you will know what to expect for disobedience, know what my punishment will be like"
Her hands moved on the controls altering the sustained setting she had used while experimenting to find my "limits"; she set the control to manual, the setting at the level at which I screamed and - .
I shrieked wildly as a jolt of current slashed my genitals.
A second, third and fourth shock rippled them. I screamed each time; screamed again and again as she demonstrated how I would be punished for trying to plead for reprieve or release.
"I did warn you, slave, that I have absolutely no compassion for other people's feeling because I enjoy torturing them far too much to consider any but my own! And you did ask to be taken beyond your tolerances with electrics, that you had longed to submit to a Dominatrix who revelled in cruelty, was genuinely sadistic and expert and who had no mercy. So what happens now is going to be quite atrocious suffering - for my enjoyment!"
She ran a hand tauntingly between her thighs. As one of her gallery pictures had been titled - a "Strange Love", an outrageous sexual delight.
"I am going to start by watching your body "dance" for me and your screams will provide the music." She set the controls to run the device so that it went from zero to the level at which I screamed and back to zero again onto to repeat the sequence automatically.
The control was on "Slow". I began to beg, and then scream; my body twisting and shaking desperately to try to alleviate the pain. It came again and again and peaked with my struggling vainly and screaming uncontrollably.
She changed the speed to "Fast". Scream after scream were forced from be in quick succession three or four times before she altered the speed once more to Slow. I lost count of how many times screams were dragged from my agonised body before she switched it off for the promised pause in which I might recover.
I lay there shuddering and gasping for breath; I was desperate not to speak or plead.
I was whimpering without pause. "Good. I enjoyed that. So we'll do it all over again!"
I couldn't help myself. "Oh no, please, in God's name, no, no, no - please, I beg you!" Of course the gag made nonsense of the words, but words they undoubtedly were.
The shocks were savage. Six separate shocks that had me shrieking as each hit my genitals. "I did warn you, slave!" she laughed, "now to repeat your dance!" Again the rhythm of the shocks, slow, slow, fast, fast, fast and altered at her whim made me scream for mercy she had no intention of granting.


When Oliver got back to his room at the hotel, he srtipped his trousers
off and gazed at reddened bottom in the mirror. He did indeed have
nice round buttocks that were smooth and there was no hair. He started
to think what it would really be like working for a master who was
three years younger. One thing for sure, his new master would be very
strict and expect only the best from him.
In looks, Oliver had a
boyish face. He was a little chubby, and not particularly bright.
He was also lazy by nature. When he set up tables in the restaurant,
for example he did not check whetther the cutlery was polished. Often,
people complained about this. He didn't always wear a clean shirt
and more often than not, the head waiter sent him back to the toilets
to scrub his finger nails. Such personal details never worried him
and he always grumbled to himself when he was sent to get clean cutlery,
or to scrub his nails. How was his master react to this slovenliness?
Oliver would find out the next day.
Promptly at 12.o'clock the next
day, Oliver was standing in his master's study.
'Right, Grimble,
I want you to take all your clothes off and let me take a good look
at you.'
Oliver stripped off and let his clothes
drop to the floor. He was ordered to turn right round very slowly.
As he did this, his master looked carefully at him. Oliver felt a
little emarrassed and humiliated. He though it was part of the ritual
a houseboy goes through.
'You are a little on the plump side, aren't
you boy? Do you do much exercise?'
Oliver
was then ordered to pick each itme of clothing up and hand it to him.
When they were handed back he was told to place them neatly on a side
table near his desk.
'None of your clothes are clean. When did you
last change them?'
When you come to me you
will wear clean clothes. Undestood, boy?'
'Yes sir. Very good, sir.
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