I Want To Be A Prisoner



by John Savage

Some people have strange desires, others are just kinky. Sweet little Pamela had always been fascinated with the idea of being a prisoner – to be held captive, locked in chains or bound with ropes, to be locked into a jail cell and have all her freedom taken away.

Then she met Sandra and her wishes came true. Well, sort of. Finding a kindred spirit in Sandra, who she began calling “Mistress”, Pamela spent hours locked in handcuffs and shuffling naked around their apartment. As Mistress learned how, good tight rope bondage was added to the ways of making Pamela a true prisoner. At least for a few hours. That these two imaginatively kinky women became lovers was no surprise. Mistress even created a small area in one closet where Pamela could be locked in “solitary confinement”, and be helpless enough to satisfy her kinkiest fantasies. But then into this idyllic existence came a devil in the form of Richard, a good looking, rather rich man with a decisively cruel taste for hurting women and dominating them totally. Soon Pamela is a real prisoner, totally in his power and brutally abused, physically and sexually. Instead of a fun occasional game with her lover, it seems that this imprisonment will last the rest of her life!

Published: 8 / 2011        No. words: 44,600EX1t

It was Tuesday night that I tried my first real bondage on Pamela.  Up to then, I had simply locked her hands in the handcuffs (wonderful devices; everyone should have a pair or two) and bound her ankles together.  The ankles were tied when I wanted to spank her, and not tied when I wanted to do some nibbling on her sex.  She had become quite comfortable at sleeping all night handcuffed and even with her feet bound.  In fact, I suspect that if I had told her to sleep without any restraint at all, she would have cried.

Okay, so there came Tuesday night.  I prepared by studying very carefully a photo of a woman in a very tightly bound position.  I had already bought some more rope because I knew I was going to need more.  I also cut some of it into shorter lengths.  Then the time came.

Pamela came into the bedroom, naked and already locked into the handcuffs.  I guess she had figured out how to lock them on herself behind her back.  She came up to me, smiling and ready for some serious lovemaking.  Boy was she in for a surprise!

First off, I swatted her as hard as I could across the ass.  The sound was loud in the room and she squealed.  There was a nice handprint forming in red on her wonderful ass.

“I did not tell you to put on those handcuffs,” I told her in as stern a voice as I could.  “Did I?”

She had a surprised look on her face, but quickly wiped it off.  “No, Mistress,” she said as she lowered her eyes to the floor.

“You are going to be punished for that.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She was calling me that all the time when we were alone.  One of these days she’s going to make a mistake and call me that out in public.  Oh, well.  I continued with the evening’s entertainment.

“Turn around.”  She did and I took off the handcuffs, which I am sure puzzled her.  I had the ropes on top of the dresser all ready.  Taking one length, I looped it around her elbows and pulled them tightly together.  I could not see her face, but the tensing of her body told me that she was surprised by that move.  The tiniest of whines came from her; I think one of pleasure.  Something different was coming and she was as eager for it as I was.  I looped the rope around her elbows half a dozen times and then did something that I had not done before.  I wrapped the end of the rope around the main windings.  A website called that “cinching down” the ropes.  With a couple loops around the other ropes, I pulled and they all tightened down quite nicely.  Then I tied the end off with a couple knots.

Her elbows were now tightly bound together.  The white cotton rope was pressing into the flesh.  I immediately took another length of rope and began binding her wrists together.  Only this time, they were not crossed as they had always been before.  They were palm to palm.  I wrapped the rope and then cinched it down.  Those ropes were pushing in on the flesh of her wrists so very nicely.  I knotted the rope a couple times and stood back to admire the results.

It was beautiful!  Her arms were tightly bound, just like in some of those photos!  This, I knew in my heart, she could not escape from.  The ropes were far too tight.  The knots were all where her fingers could never reach them.

“Turn around,” I barked.  I just had to see the front.

It was even more beautiful.  Her arms pulled back that way did wonders for her breasts.  They stuck out as if she were pushing them towards me.  They were a fine pair to begin with, but this made them even more perfect.

There was the strangest smile on her face.  Well, sort of a smile and sort of a frown.  I knew I had made the ropes tight, about as tight as I could.  I just hoped that it was not hurting her too much.  Then I discarded that thought.  If it hurt, then so be it!  She would just have to endure.

“Mistress,” she whispered.


“May I go and look in the mirror?”

“Yes.  You should see how impossible it is for you to free yourself from these ropes!”

I marched after her into the bathroom.  She turned sideways, then twisted around as much as she could.  Then she turned the other side.  For a long while she just looked at her reflection.  Then I saw her fingers reaching up for the ropes around her wrists.  Well, trying to reach them.  The fingernails could reach the ropes but not the knots, which I had put on top just as I saw in the photo.

Turning back to the mirror, she looked at her breasts as they stood out proudly.  Then she slowly turned to me.  She lowered her head and whispered, “It is beautiful, Mistress.”

“Then get your ass onto the bed and show me just how much you appreciate what I have done for you.”  As she hurried to the bed, I added, “And remember, you’re being punished for putting the handcuffs on without permission.”

She was kneeling on the bed when I got there.  It only took a moment to get my clothes off, and then I was joining her.  I spread my legs wide and she crawled up between them eagerly.  As she bent over to place her tongue where it would do the most good, I got a good look at her bound arms from above.  Bending over made the ropes tighten up even more.  It was, as she said, beautiful.


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