Archive-name: Bondage/jen1step.1

Archive-author: Magician

Archive-title: Jenny's first step - Part 1



 

So, you want to act out our joint fantasies tonight ?   To make the

dreams real ?   ...well, just bear one thing in mind...I may hold the

other end of this chain, but _you_ locked it around your neck and

surrendered it to me.  Yours was the act of submission, yours the

first step that cannot be retraced.  You placed yourself at my

disposal, now you must accept whatever consequences I choose.  I say

this, not to elicit your agreement - you're in no position to disagree

now - merely to ensure that you fully understand your situation.



The chain tightens, Jenny.  A steel band, cold on your throat, draws

you toward the dark, one step at a time.  What lies ahead ?  Should

you resist, now, or is it too late ?  Of course it is.  A step nearer.

Choose how you will go - head up, defiant and proud, or struggling and

uselessly screaming.  Another step. The manner of your going is the

only choice you have, now.  However you do it, you're going into the

darkness. One step left.  Tell me how it feels.  Speak, while you

still can, Jenny. No more steps. The dark takes you.





"I feel a tight little knot in the pit of my stomach, and my skin

tingles all over.  The chain is cold, hard and very heavy on my neck.

Why is such a heavy chain needed to bind a weak and helpless girl?  I

have to struggle to keep up and keep some slack in the chain

because, with my hands bound behind me, I can't pull against it or

avoid its harsh tugs in any way."





That "tingling" is the cool air flowing in from the entrance, stirring

those little light hairs on your bare skin.  It won't bother you long,

don't worry, because the door is silently closing behind you.  It's a

very heavy door, thick and secure, moving on well-oiled hinges.

There's a soft 'thump' as it settles into its jamb, and the

distinctive sound of a heavy lock sliding home into a tempered steel

socket.   There's only one key for this door.  I have it.



It's very quiet, now the door is shut. Outside sounds don't penetrate,

nor will any sound from inside be heard beyond the door, even if

anyone were there to hear.  Your own breathing sounds like a rushing

wind, the soft clink of the chain rings as loud as bells on a winter

night.  Short echoes return from around you, but give no clues as to

who, or what may be in the shadows.



The weight of the chain ? The chain is not to bind your body, Jenny,

but to bind your mind.  A simple dog-leash would suffice to guide and

restrain you, like the pet you are to become, but the cold grip of

steel and the downward drag of the links serve to make you very aware

that you are totally captive, body and spirit.   At each reluctant

step, your neck feels the tension of supporting the metal, and your

own muscles constantly tell you of your helplessness, of the

inequality of the struggle.



You may relax now, at least as much as you can.  The pulling has

stopped.  Unaccustomed to the darkness, you sense, rather than see,

movement near you, as you stand, shifting your weight uncertainly from

one foot to the other.  The angle of the chain swings sharply upward,

and a soft 'snap' tells you it has been secured to something close

overhead, effectively limiting your movements to a very small radius.



Suddenly, something touches your bare arm !    You gasp and leap

forward, brought up sharply by the chain.  You twist away, but someone

is holding your roped wrists firmly, circling them with something

else... not cold, like the chain, not coarse and cutting like the

crude rope that binds them now.... soft, smooth, not unpleasant on the

skin.... leather cuffs, Jenny, stronger and safer than rope or steel,

to hold you firmly without damaging your skin over a longer period.

After all, over the length of time you are to be here, I have to

consider the long-term.  I need to keep you in good condition to serve

me well.



The broad straps circle each wrist snugly, and snap together with a

tiny brass lock.  As your eyes begin to adjust, you can crane over

your shoulder in time to see a blade flash !    Wild , panicky

thoughts fill your head, of blood and pain, is this why I brought you

here...?  The blade completes its stroke, severs the cords on your

wrists, making your hands tingle as the circulation returns.  In the

flood of relief, you are almost grateful for the soft but unbreakable

grip of the new cuffs.



Another brushing touch on your back, between your shoulder blades.

Again, the touch and smell of new leather, and a broader strap circles

your elbows, drawing them close together behind you.   To accommodate

the discomfort of this new stricture, you have to pull your shoulders

back, and you are suddenly very aware of how this makes your breasts

ride up and stand proud.    So am I, Jennyy, so am I



It's quiet for a moment, and you stand, twisting a little, testing

your bonds for weaknesses, looking for some slack.  There is none. You

can hear me moving around behind you, in the dim light you can vaguely

make out outlines, see me move back towards you with something in my

hands.  You don't know what it is, you're not sure you want to know.

You find out soon enough, as padded cuffs grip each ankle and snap

into place.  A short bar joins them, spreading your legs just enough

to be revealing, but not enough to be uncomfortable.   Yet.



It's quiet again.  I move away, pick up something that rustles and

jingles a little and turn back to you.   There's a soft 'click', and

spotlights spring on all around you, lighting every side of your bound

form, allowing you no shadow, no modesty.  The light stings your eyes,

you have to blink back tears, try to shake your head against the

restraining chain.



Look about you, Jenny, as your eyes grow accustomed to the brightness.

Tell me what you see.   Speak to me, Jenny, I'll allow you a few

minutes of speech before I either cover or fill your mouth.   Tell me,

Jenny, this may be your last chance for some time.... what do you see,

hear, feel, want, need ?



As I move into the light, approaching you, what is your greatest dream

and your worst fear ?  The adrenalin's pumping in your veins, your

breath rasps, you don't know what I plan for you, but you have

imagined this moment over and over.



Tell me the good and the bad.  What do you most crave for me to do

now..... and what is your worst dread ?  You have to tell me, but you

have no idea which it is to be, if either.  Neither do I, yet.  If one

or other of your descriptions appeals to me, I may do it.  I may just

toss a coin.  Or I may have something far better/worse planned for

you.



Tell me now.......in detail.     Tell me NOW, JENNY !



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