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Chapter 3: Bound over and over again.
The opening of the small window in the door let a little light into the gloom of the cell. The voice of Mr Hornchurch whispered, “I would have further talk with you, Mary, but you will have to agree to be restrained.” When I put my hands through the door, the manacles were put on. He entered the cell, passed a rope through my arms and tied it behind my back. His breathing told me the pleasure he got from binding me.
“Oh sir,” I whispered, “I am totally at your mercy, you can do anything with me.”
“And do you mind that Mary?”
“No sir. I am honoured that you are giving your time to find my innocence.”
“And are you truly innocent Mary?”
“I am innocent of murder, sir, and I am happy to let you do whatever to satisfy yourself,” I paused, “of my innocence.”
“Whatever, Mary? To my satisfaction?” His hand pressed against my breast.
“Oh yes, sir. My innocence is such that I am bound to please you.”
“And you are willing to submit yourself to my examination of your innocence?”
“I am willing and happy to do so to your complete satisfaction.” I knew that his examination was not to be of my innocence but of my willingness and I was willing, by giving him the satisfaction he wanted I could gain my own release.
He led me to the courtroom and sat me down. “You said you were on intimate terms with Mr Chandler.”
“Yes sir, for the past six months. But he did not get me with child. You can examine my body, my firm breasts and flat belly are those of a maiden, not a mother.”
He nodded; his fingers undid my buttons and pushed the cloth aside. He stared at my breasts.
“You can feel that they have not developed for producing milk, sir.”
His hands explored my breasts. This was not the appropriate behaviour of a magistrate, but my breasts were not distracted by that thought, they responded to his touch. “You seem to have no embarrassment about being fondled by a man, Mary.” His voice was husky with desire.
“No sir, that is because I am tied. If my hands were free I would try to cover myself, but Mr Chandler taught me that when I am tied I can feel no embarrassment for there is nothing I can do but accept my fate. He tied me often so that he could do as he wished and I could not hide the pleasure of my body. He said that being bound almanbahis adres to please him I was free to be pleased.”
He breathed deep and slow for a few minutes, his hands stroking at my breasts and fingers toying with my hard nipples. “The peoples of Japan use intricate bindings for the holding and examining of prisoners,” he said at last. “I learned something of the art in my travels. In 1863 I sailed back from Japan as first mate on the Pegasus, a 1500-ton steamer.” His fingers still toyed with my nipples but he seemed distracted, his mind in another place and time. We made the journey in two months. That was a fine time. I made two good friends, Inoue Kaoru and Ito Hirobumi, members of the Japanese nobility but they were travelling to England working as deckhands on the Pegasus to be the first ever Japanese students at London University. If they had been found leaving Japan without the Emperors permission they would have had their heads cut off. They had a knowledge of ropes and knots that was more than any sailor. To them binding was a form of art. They taught me some of the secrets of Kinbaku, that means tight binding. If I tied you in the manner of Kinbaku you could hide nothing from me. I should learn how innocent you are.” I could feel the tension in his hands from the excitement in his thoughts. “I shall do it, he said. “I shall establish your innocence or your guilt.”
I made no reply. He pulled a large canvas bag in front of me and opened it to display a selection of ropes, some thin as cord and some thicker than my wrist. He stood me up and removed the manacles then stripped me naked, keeping me restrained all the while. Once I was naked he bound my body in layers of cord above and beneath my breasts till they were jutting out from the bindings. He threw two ropes over the roof beams and attached the ends to the bindings round my arms then pulled tight and tied off the two ends. Next he bound my thighs separately. Two more ropes were thrown over the beams and the ends attached to the bindings of my thighs. When he tugged on the ropes and tied them off my legs were lifted and splayed and I was hanging suspended three feet off the floor. More binding were tied round my waist and attached to the beam so my body was hanging flat, with only my head and my feet hanging loose.
I found it hard to remain almanbahis adresi quiet, fearing I was in the hands of a strange and perverted mad man. But there was nothing I could do so I bit on my lip and gave no sign of resistance. He moved around me, sometimes touching the ropes, sometimes my body. His hands touched my breasts and his fingers gripped my nipples, pinching and pulling till he set me swinging. He moved between my legs and his hands stroked my thighs above the bindings. He tugged on my short hairs, arresting the movement and then his finger stroked between my legs, lightly touching my exposed lips. I felt myself open like the petals of a flower and I felt my dew on the petals. His finger slid into me and his thumb rubbed at the nub of my desire.
“Did your master ever tie you like this, Mary?”
“No sir, he never tied me so securely.” My voice sounded like that of a child.
“Do you feel secure, Mary?”
“Yes sir,” I whispered, though I still felt fear more than excitement.
“What am I doing, Mary?”
“You are examining me, sir, to know that I have never been with child. You have your finger in my cunt sir.”
“Your cunt, Mary?”
“That is what the master told me I must call it, sir”
“And your cunt likes it Mary?”
“Yes sir, when I am tied I cannot hide the truth.” The fear was receding and I felt my body relax to his touch. I felt his breath on me and his face press between my thighs, his tongue twisting a pattern of need around and about, in and out till I was squirming in the ropes.
He stopped suddenly, leaving me open with longing.
“You have a sweet cunt, Mary. Tell me what I should do next in my search for truth?”
“Put your cock in me sir, I want you to feel that I was never with child.”
He moved to beside my head. “You want me to put my cock in your cunt, Mary?”
“Please sir.” It was what he wanted to do and I was ready to receive him.
“If I put my cock in your cunt to find the truth then I shall have to fuck you, Mary. Do you want me to fuck you Mary? Tell me.”
“Please fuck me sir,” I whispered.
He removed his clothes while I watched him, then moved closer beside me. He was not fully stiff, but his cock was thick and long. “I need your mouth to tell the truth of what you want.” He moved close to me and raised almanbahis adres my head with one hand. I put my lips over the head of his cock. I felt it grow solid as I sucked on it. “I believe your mouth Mary.” His other hand flicked my nipples, making them ache.
He moved away from my head and returned to between my legs. I felt his cock being stroked over the lips of my cunt, then his fingers grip the short hairs and his thumb grind my sensitive nub as he pushed into me. His hands moved to my hips and he pulled me firmly against him, impaling me completely. I was weightless, a floating body tethered by my cunt to his cock, aware only of it pulsing inside me and of my internal muscles trying to grip and hold him, grip and hold, as he eased my floating body forward and back.
I heard myself groan as he stretched and filled me, my head hanging loose, mouth open as wide as my impaled cunt with that sublime, agonizing, over-full feeling. And then it began, a timeless, total melting, a shivering and jerking that convulsed my entire body till I was left floating on the web of ropes with all my flesh liquid, languid, utterly spent.
It was as if I awakened from a dream. He was standing beside me, hand supporting my head. He looked concerned. I smiled at him. “I think I have found a new master,” I whispered. “You have claimed me totally.”
The concern left his face. “Sit up,” he said, as he lifted my head higher. When I was raised he retied the ropes that were attached to my arms, then released the ropes from my waist and thighs leaving me dangling a little above the floor. He undid the cords on my thighs and waist and touched the patterns they had been left on my skin. Once again he untied the ropes that supported me and lowered me to my feet, then he made me kneel. He released the bindings on my arms and fastened my hands behind my back, then removed the cords from above and beneath my breasts. His fingers traced the marks left by the cords on the soft flesh and his eyes told the pleasure he got from the pattern he had made.
“Stand.” He pulled me to my feet and guided me to the large desk, then bent me over till my chest and belly were flat on it. He pushed my legs apart. “You have fine buttocks, Mary.” The slap took me by surprise and I cried out. Another slap followed, then more, not hard but stinging and hot, making me gasp, His cock pushed into me hard, taking my breath away completely. He was pounding into me, thrusting harder and faster and then I was empty and I felt the splash of his spending on my back.
When he was done he freed my arms, dressed me and took me back to my cell.
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