DISTURBED extract

© DrkFetyshNyghts 2021

 

 

There was a noise, or sorts, from the seated woman. She was back on the chair now, and the bondage of her femininity had been completed, to a point. Imogen had been beyond impressed when the mother of Crystal had come back in her highest, spikiest stilettos. There was that fluid movement there that one would expect from a mature woman used to wearing heels. But there was also this impediment there preventing her from reaching her full slut-strut potential in those heels. It was like the best of both worlds for Imogen and there was of course the fact that Imogen's sexuality was buzzing at the sight of this woman being dismantled little by little.

Imogen had told her,

"Use stockings. Tie them tight round your upper thighs, join them to another stocking to make a tight, cutting belt to keep the nylon tight in your crotch. I want to make sure those dildos don't slip out and I want to make sure YOU don't push them out."

It was as though Imogen was thinking loud, but she wasn't. It was as though she was teasing her own sexuality. But she knew what she wanted to see.

That was almost two hours ago. Now, the picture had been painted. Crystal's mother was secured to the chair, but she was sitting on it backwards - in other words she was sitting on it facing the tall straight back. This meant her three-ply nylon sheathed legs were spread either side of the chair and secured at the knees. The severe arch of her high heels did nothing to make her comfortable.

Then a hood had been fashioned out of stockings. Again three layers of stockings had been pulled over her head and face distorting her features. But not before her mouth had been filled with her own soiled panties. Imogen had told her,

"Open wide mamma, time to taste yourself."

She had balled up the three most soiled panties she could find and then pulled those three layers of stockings over, compressing her face and features and making it impossible for her to spit out the panty gag. And there was this point at which Imogen stood back to look. She wanted to see this woman in all her glory.

She'd have to admit that crystal's mum was a looker. And given that she'd had her femininity and dignified nouse taken away from her, there was still this spectacularity about this woman that Imogen had to give her credit for. How that 'credit' would pan out going forward was anyone's guess given that Imogen was on a one way trip of destroying her in advance of her one and only coming back. And in that there was this hint that existed - 'one way'. It had to be a fact that anything in Imogen's new world was one way. It couldn't be anything else. There just couldn't be a return trip.

As a final 'panty insult' Imogen had taken another soiled pair and pulled it over the nylon hood and, placed it like a mask over the woman's mouth and nose so that she could 'smell' herself as well as taste herself. That together with a hole delicately snipped through the three layers of nylon so that the mane of thick lush hair could be pulled through and held in a high, tight pony tail both enhanced this woman's femininity and debilitated it at the same time.

"Mmmmmm mmmmmm ghhhhhhh mmmmmmm."

As has been said, it was a noise of sorts that came from that pantyhose hood, and from behind that soiled panty gag. But it wasn't a decipherable noise, or one that made any communicative sense. The panty gag had soaked through because of the distress that the woman was in. That drool soaking through had come through the panties and through the nylon as well. And from behind the three-ply nylon 'filter' there was the hugeness of her eyes, darting around. Ok, this was not good for her, for her dignity and pride but it was something she could have adapted to if she'd been on top of it. So why the distress?

Down her pantyhose, a buzzing vibrator had been slipped down the front of her tummy so that the tip, just about engaged with that bundle of hoodless clitoral nerves. The tightness of the three layers held the dildo right there. And the rigidity of the rest of the bondage prevented enough movement that might allow the vibrator to be dislodge.

Her pendulous breasts had been flopped over the top of the chair back and then tied together with individual stockings. Imogen had been clinical in her bondage of the tits. Tight knots, thin stockings, all ruthlessly applied to the base of the breast volume and then, elastic bands applied to the base of each nipple to ensure there swelling and engorging and erection. Actually her nipples were a work of art in themselves - a distorted work of art. And when the tip of a vibrator was played over those nipples, the noise of enforced sexual pleasure and distress was to behold.

Simple stocking ties held her arms and wrists behind her back so that she had no defence. And her stilettos then, lifted back so that her feet could be secured off the floor. Her arched feet were effectively suspended off the floor, and she was helpless. But the manner and the depth of her bondage and torment, explained the noises she made. Effectively she was being forced and milked of orgasms that she had no defence against. And with Imogen set free to use another vibrator on the banded, grotesquely engorged nipples, this woman's mind would be melted. By the time Crystal arrived back home, her mother would be a different woman.