No. 8: Part 1

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tech43
Posts: 14
Joined: Wed Mar 15, 2017 3:48 am

No. 8: Part 1

Postby tech43 » Wed Feb 05, 2020 3:19 am

No. 8
Female/female, bondage, quicksand, submergence, pantyhose

The Start
It was dark, beyond dark. No light, no shadows, just nothing to be visually comprehended. The heavy, leather mask pulled over her head was laced tight in the back. The only holes, were precisely positioned under her nose, aligning with each nostril allowing in only air but not big enough to allow light in. She could feel the leather against her face; it was moist with her sweat as it had been laced on her head for at least the better part of this horrible day. How many hours had passed, she had no idea, she was a prisoner; captive to her own thoughts and curiosities as to what would become of her.

The mask wasn’t the only thing tight on her body; her arms, legs and feet were bound as well. She lay there, prone on her stomach, tightly bound to herself; her body was covered in a spandex, full body unitard, it covered every inch of her body. She vaguely remembered being dressed in it days ago; it covered her feet, legs, torso, arms, hands and face. She was in fact, nothing more than a black, spandex human shape with no identifying facial features. She was a blank slate. She was turned into, nothing. Her tiny size 5 feet, had long since stopped cramping, each foot, individually forced into a permanent point from the ballet heels shoes laced tightly on them. What she didn’t know is these were specially modified, ballet heeled shoes, and they were in fact, heelless. Specially designed to prevent any walking at all, if she tried to walk, without professional ballet pointe training she would be forced to crawl about on the floor, that is IF she was actually able to move.

The immobility, the lack of movement was due to the strict bondage she found herself in. Not only the hood and ballet shoes, but also she was tightly cocooned in a Darlexx sack that started at her ankles and went all the way up to here neck. Her arms were in sleeves, just like in a leotard, but were pinned helplessly behind her in an arm binder. The sack zippered in the back and formed a tight collar around her petite neck. The Darlexx was tight, compressing and between the spandex unitard and the Darlexx sack, she felt like she was be squeezed at every part of her little 5’3” body. And if all this compression wasn’t enough, she still had on the pantyhose she had been wearing before all of this began. The rest of her cloths had been removed and discarded. She was subject to an unknown fate.

She tried to remember what had transpired that brought her to this point. She remembered going for a walk, she left her apartment where she lived alone with her cat and just wanted to go for a short walk. She had woke up this morning, “Wait! This morning was Thursday, yes, today was Thursday”, believing what day it was gave her a center to focus on. Now, she began again to trace her steps; she got up and got dressed. She put on a pair of sheer, nude, seamless pantyhose and a pair of black, thong panties over top) so as to wedge the pantyhose deep between her ass cheeks), a sexy little pink bra and her favorite flirty black skirt. A pink blouse and her little black flats, the flats were well worn in and you could see every toe outlined by the well broken in leather. The flats were so little that you could see the beginning of each toe were her foot tucked into the front of the shoes. She had decided to go for walk after breakfast, a walk that would take her to her favorite coffee shop, florist (just to smell the flowers) and then book store. After all, she was all set for a four day weekend and she wanted a good book or two to curl up with either at home or for reading in the park.
The thing was, despite the carefree feeling she tried to present for the day, she purposely dress the way she did. Did she do it to attract someone, to turn heads, or to feel young and sexy? No. She didn’t have to feel young, she was young. Only 27 years old. Turn heads no that happened no matter what she wore. Perhaps to attract someone, no again, she had been dumped by her boyfriend a month ago and wasn’t ready to commit to another relationship just yet. It was all good though, he bored her anyway, and he wasn’t daring and didn’t share let alone understand her “turn-ons”. She figured she kind of scared him which is why he broke up with her; which brings us full circle to her current situation...

The Group
She had joined a group about a year ago that addressed people’s, well, deviant needs and desires. She invited her boyfriend at time, but he was far from interested. He was more of the boring bar crowd kind of guy, sit on a stool and watch hockey and football while downing chicken wings and beer. She liked wine and classical music and evenings with a book, but there was another side, a daring, risky side. It had always been there since she was a kid. She was the one who loved to be rescued by the boys of the neighborhood whenever they wanted to play. She was happy to be the “girl in distress”; she would let them tie her up, just to be “rescued”. Then when she was an early teenager the internet opened her eye to a whole new world; bondage using everything from straitjackets, to leather straps, ballet heels, arm binders, hoods, gags, vibrating machines and even women slowly yet pleasurably sinking in deep, thick mud or quicksand. Through various online groups and club she found The Group as they called themselves. It was collection of about 16 individuals all with similar interests and if no, mutual respect for one another’s turn-ons. They never used their names only numbers as assigned. She was number 8. The Group always operated on an even number of members and although at 16 now had never been allowed to grow larger than 20. As members were admitted, they were encouraged to share all the things that turned them on. All the things that they needed in their life to satisfy their desires. For number 8 it was; bondage (tight bondage), ballet heels, pantyhose, spandex, helplessness, immobility, and finally quicksand. AAAAHHHH, quicksand, tight and confining; slowly is drawing you in to a state of helplessness, effortless bondage. Being pinned to yourself, arms trapped at your sides, legs squeezed together, feet permanently pointed straight down with nothing beneath your toes.

After her break-up it took her a little bit of time to gain the courage to ask, but finally about 5 months ago she did. She asked for a private meeting with the group leader, number 1, and laid out all she was looking for; number 1 took down notes and said she’d get back to her in a week. In the meantime, number 8 was expected to provide all of the gear she wanted to be bound in. So, after putting in extra hours at work and living on a tight budget, she did it. Then, the day came, her phone rang seven days after her meeting with number 1 and the plan was set. They met at the local café where number 8 handed over a large box to number 1 containing all she had gathered for her “dream” session. She was simply told to be ready for next Thursday and be prepared to be out of work for the next four days. And so, when she got dress today, that special Thursday, she wanted to be prepared.

As she walked to her favorite coffee shop, a familiar van pulled up next to here on the street, it was number 1, and told her to get in. The side door slid open and an arm reached out to “help” her inside. The back of the van was empty, it was lined with soft padded carpet and in the corner was a box, her box. A hand came from behind her and she suddenly found it hard to breathe as a damp rag covered her face, slowly everything went dark. As she drifted off, a smile formed on her face…

Time to Live the Dream
Number 8 was pleasantly trapped, bound tightly to herself and helplessly ready for what came next. It was then she felt it, a quick vibration from deep inside her. “OH THEY DIDN’T”, she thought to herself, “Oh NO, they did!” A quick vibration quaked inside her, pressed deep into her held in by her pantyhose and unitard. The Group had inserted into her holes two wireless vibrators. Penetrating deep inside her, the quick vibration was just a test, a “wake-up” call to her senses. A message for what would be happening as long as she was bound. Although the vibrations only lasted a matter of seconds, her body quaked and shook, her feet pointed even harder in the ballet heels and her hands clenched as they were bound together at the base of the arm binder. She felt hands moving over her tightly bound body, they were pulling something over the frame of her body bound in the Darlexx sack, it was the full body harness she provided them a device that would securely bind her even tighter and allow her to be suspended in the air. She could feel them synching up the straps tightly starting at her ankles and working their way up her legs. Straps were tightened around her about every five inches. Her body rocked back and forth from both the hands fitting the straps around her and the van still making its way to the destination. “I wonder where they are taking me?” number 8 thought to herself as she was rolled around on the floor of the van. Soon enough the straps were all secured around her body, from her feet, up her legs, around her torso, securing her arms in the binder to her even tighter and finally over her shoulders.

A little while later the van came to a stop and stayed parked, this was no traffic light, they must of arrived at the location. She could hear the doors open and muffled voices, hands reached into the van and pulled her excessively, tightly bound body from the van and slid her onto a cart. She lay there, helplessly being wheeled away for whatever came next. Number 8 ran through the list of desires in her mind and knew that The Group would also through in a surprise or two, (or many three or four as there were already two surprises deep inside her waiting to be activate). The cart soon came to a stop and hands reached down to pick her up and place her on a table, using the full body harness, member of The Group, secured her to a table as someone slowly removed her leather hood. Number 8’s eyes adjusted to the light and slowly Number 3’s face came into focus. A beautiful brunette with long curly hair smiled down at her. “I had my time about a month ago, and it was incredible. I can’t wait to do it again.” she said with a huge grin, “I’ve read your list and we’re going to fulfill everything on it plus a surprise or two” she said with a devilish grin. With that she forced a huge gag into Number 8’s mouth, once secured it started to inflate, filling her mouth and insuring Number 8 couldn’t talk (all a part of her list). The exterior of the gag was different that the one she provided though, she strained her eyes to try to focus on the long tube that came out of the front of the gag, it lay across her bound chest and extended out about three or four feet from her. “I wonder why it is so long?” she thought to herself. The view was momentarily blocked as they placed another hood over her head again; this hood had an open face but covered her ears and the rest of her head. They pulled in secure and lace the back of it tightly against her head. This hood was made of Darlexx just like the body sack and she felt the compression tightly against her head as she tried to get use to the large gag in her mouth. The last thing she saw was a large latex sheet, suspended by a frame descending from the ceiling; it was larger than her and as it came to rest if covered her and hugged the sides of the table. Number 3 flipped a switch and Number 8 could hear a machine turn on, a sucking sound started and she could feel the latex sheet getting tighter over her body, “They’ve placed me in a vacuum bed! This must be one of the surprises, I’ve never experienced this before and it certainly wasn’t on my list.” The thought to herself in a slight panic but concluding there was no hope of rescue or stopping it from happening. Within moments a tight seal was formed around her body, there was no ability to move for her. No hope of escape, just seclusion, just darkness. The breathing tube from her gag had been fitting through a hole in the latex sheet and it was her only connection to the outside world.

Suddenly, gently she felt the soft caress of fingers gliding over her body. They ran slowly up her legs, thighs and pressed hard against her crotch. Number 8 let out a deep, long moan. She attempted to shift and writhe against her bonds and the press herself against the probing fingers, but it was not use. The Darlexx sack, the body harness and finally the vacuum bed prevented all of that. From the outside Number 3 could see all of the definitions of Number 8, clearly outlined by the tight vacuum compressed on her. Number 3 was enjoying every moment of this and was ecstatic that Number 1 had chosen her to carry out Number 8’s every wish. As her fingers made their way up Number 8’s chest and over her firm, round breasts she press the button on the wireless remove she carried around her neck. Instantly, Number 8 let out a loud moan through the breathing tube as the two devices deep inside her came to life violently. Number 3 had set them both to high power when she turned them on, throwing Number 8 into a helpless state of sexual torture and ecstasy. The moans, whimpers and groans that came from the tube were unending. Number 8 attempted to struggle, her hands bound in the arm binder that was lashed behind her body grasped one another tightly, her breathing increased and with the long breathing tube it made it difficult to take in fresh cool air.

Number 3 turned the vibrators back off, and bent down to where Number 8’s right ear would be. “You’re going to have to control yourself dear, it is only mid-morning and we have all day for this part of your session. Now, to insure your safety, I’m going to exchange the breathing tube for a shorter one for now. However tomorrow you’re going to need that long tube, oh my, are you ever going to need it. But for today, we’ll go with this one.” She reached down to Number 8’s gag giving it a slight tug and removed the long tube and fastened in a short 6 inch one. Reaching for the remote around her neck, she turned on the vibrators again, this time setting them to low, smiled at her bound toy and walked away. Number 3 was only a few feet away on a comfy sofa, not that Number 8 would have any idea, they always thought of safety and ALWAYS kept an observer with the participant to insure safety, as well as compliance to the participant’s wishes. Number 3 was dressed comfortably for the occasion, she, like Number 8 loved hosiery and tight fitting things. She wore black, back-seamed pantyhose and a black thong leotard. Her legs glistened in the sun light that came through the window and she admired herself. Due to the nature of the session, she word “sensible” footwear, a pair of black soft ballet slippers. The slippers allowed her to approach Number 8 quietly, secretly and suddenly. And for tomorrow they would allow her to walk comfortably to the next destination just outside.

Number 8’s moaning continued, and just for fun, Number 3 would adjust the speed and rhythm of the vibrators deep inside Number 8. The moans from the tube changed from a shriek of surprise to deep pleasurable moans then to long, pitiful whimpers. Number 3 allowed the vibrators to do their work for intervals of 30 minutes or longer then turn them off for only 15 minutes. This went on from the late morning until about sometime after lunch. Altogether, Number 8 was trapped, bound and vibrated for over four hours. By the end of the first part of her session, she was a trembling, twitching, whimpering mess. Number 3 deactivated the vacuum bed, and removed the hood and gag from Number 8’s face. She was rolled over onto her stomach in a prone position and slowly the buckles for the harness were released and the entire device was removed from her body. The sack was slowly peeled off of her and the ballet heels removed. Number 8 lay there free but still helpless. She moaned, grinning slightly as Number 3 held a cool bottle of water for Number 8 to drink from via a straw. As she drank, Number 3 caressed her spandex covered body gently; a tingle went up Number 8’s spine as she felt Number 3’s fingers glide over her legs. The combination of spandex and pantyhose underneath sent a tingly sensation that Number 8 was all too familiar with and knew would both stimulate and calm her at the same time.

Number 3’s soft voice flowed into Number 8’s ears as she was informed on the plan for the rest of the day. “You’re going to rehydrate for little bit, be allowed to use the bathroom and eat a little something if you wish. Then, it’s back into bondage for you. The heelless ballet shoes will be placed back on your feet, the sack will be pulled back up over your body and instead of the harness straps will be placed around your ankles, knees and thighs. You will spend the remainder of the day and into the night lashed down to the table. Your arms however will be bound at the wrists and lashed down to the table up over your head. At that point we will tighten the lashings and you will be mildly stretched on the table, unable to move. Your hands over your head, your feet pointed, your legs tightly bound. You will experience the vibrators for the rest of the day and night, they will turn on and off at different intervals and intensity until we are ready for you tomorrow. Do you understand?” Number 8 nodded her head and smiled at Number 3. She continued, “Tomorrow we will work on the rest of your list and then you will decide if you wish to add a third day or rest for the remainder of your four day session. There will be no gag for the remainder of the day, as I have plans for you dear.”

After about an hour break, Number 8 was placed back into bondage, she was stretched out on the table and unlike before she could struggle a little bit more than before. She wiggled her fingers, flexed her pointed little feet, and shimmied her legs just to feel the pantyhose sliding inside the spandex. The vibrators turned on slowly gaining momentum until they were set to mid-range by Number 3. She lay there, helplessly twitching and moaning. Number 8, smiled and moaned, struggling against her bonds she felt Number 3’s hands again caressing up her bound little body. Number 3 slowly, stealthily climbed on the able on top of Number 8, Number 8 tried to ask what she was doing but the vibrators took away her ability to coherently speak. She watched as Number 3’s tight, pantyhose covered ass with the thong from her leotard digging deep between her ass cheeks slowly slid up over her chest and finally came to rest over her face. She could feel the soft nylon fabric on top of her lips and dampness of Number 3’s crotch kissing her lips. Number 3 started grind against Number 8’s mouth and Number 8 complied with her mouth, pressing as far as her bonds would allow her against the nylon covered crotch that pressed down against her face. The vibrators now, raced at full speed inside her and she could feel her captor’s fingers pressing against them, pushing them deeper into her. Number 8’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, she tried to keep her mouth going but eventually passed out from the pleasure of it all. Not completely out, but more into a state of semi consciousness where the real world seemed more like a foggy dream. In in that state, Number 8 stayed until she awoke the next morning.

Preparations
Number 8 was freed again and allowed to use the bathroom, drink water and eat something. She was interviewed by Number 3 to insure she wanted to continue and asked if all was going well and fulfilling her requests. “I couldn’t be happier, this is great. I’ll admit, being completely helpless and placed under your full control is both exciting and a bit scary but I’m really enjoying myself. I know we haven’t completed my list yet, so I’m excited for tomorrow and maybe a third day.” Number 8 said smiling; she truly loved every minute of this and was already looking forward to her next session, but knew now that she had her turn she would be invited to participate in another member’s sessions and be the one in control. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be the one to be in control of Number 3, the thought of that brought her joy. Number 3 smiled, picking up the ballet heels and said, “Well then, we better get back to it. You have a big day today. For today, we’re going to change up your outfit. Please take off your Spandex suit and pantyhose. I’ll need you to put on this outfit over here.” Number 3 pointed to a little outfit placed on the table next to them. It matched Number 3’s exactly, a pair of sheer black, back-seamed pantyhose, and a black, thong leotard. Number 8 got undressed and prepared to put on her assigned outfit, when Number 3 touched her arm and handed her the remote control vibrators, “Don’t forget these dear, you’re going to need these today, believe me they will complete the experience.” Number 8 took them, lubed them up and inserted them deep in her, she shivered as they slipped in, keeping an eye on Number 3 to see it she was going to “test” them.

Moments later, Number 8 stood before Number 3 in her pantyhose and leotard, her heelless ballet shoes were handed to her and she was instructed to put them on. Once on, she was placed on a table; Number 3 then started tightly wrapping soft rope around her ankles and wrists. Her hands were tied behind her back and her elbows were pinned together by more rope. More rope was added to her legs, binder her knees together. Finally the body harness was placed around her and again, she was tightly bound to herself. She was placed into a wheelchair and pushed outside and down a path. She looked around, taking in the scenery and listening to the sounds of the forest.

After a few minutes they came to a clearing, the forest opened up to an area about 30 feet wide, in the center was what looked like a mud pit of some sort and above it was an electric wench. She knew what was coming and her breathing increased. Her chest heaved in the leotard and bindings. She twitched a bit and saw Number 3 coming over to her with the inflatable gag in her hand with the long breathing hose attached. Number 3 smiled as she started to move the gag closer to Number 8’s face. “Well here we are, it is time and you are going to love this! I’m going to gag the shit out of you, pump the gag till it fills your mouth then I’m going to put ear plugs in your ears. That winch over there is going to slowly lower you into that thick, soft, warm mud and your only hope will be this breathing tube. Do you understand?” Number 8 nodded yes. You will spend an undisclosed amount of time in The Pit; you will feel it slowly consume you as we lower you into it. It is thick mud so the fun part is that there will be slack in the line as you are lowered in, the mud is thick enough that it will hold you as your bound body is slowly sucked into the deep, dark, thick mire. You will be able to look down and see it slowly swallow you. If you sink too slowly I will turn on the vibrators to full power, just to get you twitching and struggling beyond what you may want to do yourself. As you sink, the mud will become another form of bondage, compressing against every part of your body, pushing tighter on you from your pointed little feet all the way up to your pretty little face. Just before I hoist you up to lower you in, I will put plugs in your nose, forcing you to breathe through the tube in your gag. However, it will be up to you to close and keep your eyes closed. I want you to experience the mud slowly climbing up your legs, torso, flowing over your soon-to-be heaving chest as you start to panic a bit realizing just how helpless you are and confined you will be. You will first hand, witness the mud reaching your neck and slow climbing up to your chin, around your gagged mouth and to your plugged nostrils and ears. Then, slowly, it will reach your eyes, your wide open eyes. Your pupils will be huge as you experience fear, sexual frustration, instantaneously taking just how completely fucked you are and then the mud will creep over your eyes that you’ll have to keep squeezed shut the entire time. You’ll feel it flow over the top of your head as you sink deeper and deeper in my mud pit. I know you are 5 foot 3 inches and I’ve personally supervised the digging of this pit to insure that even in your heelless ballet shoes, you will go deeper than you can stand. I won’t tell you exactly how deep the pit is, we’ll save that for afterwards, but I will tell you now that it is deeper than you in your current state.

The Joy of Submergence
Number 8’s chest heaved rapidly in her bonds. She could see her breasts swelling in her leotard, as she took in every word Number 3 spoke. She looked down at herself; her tiny feet permanently pointed in her heelless ballet shoes bound tightly together at the ankles, her shiny legs in the black pantyhose with the back seams she couldn’t see bound tightly at the knees and thighs. Her arms wrenched behind her bound at the wrists and elbow. She could feel the thong from her leotard pulling tightly into her ass, knowing each cheek was firmly covered in black pantyhose. Then there were the vibrators, plunged deep within her, both just waiting to be activated sending her into a twitching frenzy causing her to struggle in her bonds and eventually making her sink faster and completely out of her control. Number 3 moved closer and ordered her to open her mouth, she complied, and the gag went in and was strapped in place around her head. Number 3 started pumping it up, filling her mouth; it was a long gag that Number 8 swore went deep into her throat. She could breathe through it, not able to take really deep breaths, but enough to keep her alive. Number 3 then moved side to side, inserting gummy plugs into each ear then pushed the wheel chair a little closer to The Pit and connected a hook to the top of the full body harness that was tightly fastened around Number 8’s frame. Just before activating the switch that would hoist her up, Number 3 inserted 2 gummy plugs into each nostril, forcing Number 8 to breathe through the tube. The breathing tube was then fastened to the rope that came from the hoist, insuring it would stay above Number 8 at all times and insuring the end of the tube would stay above her in the clean, cool air.

Reality for Number 8 settled in, she felt the hoist pull her body out of the wheel chair and suspended in midair. Number 3 pressed another button which swung Number 8 out over The Pit. Now positioned directly above the center of The Pit, Number 8 looked down; she could see herself completely, helplessly bound. Every part of her was secured to itself; she was bound to herself and was completely unable to rescue herself from this situation. There was no freedom; her feet not only bound together were helpless pointed straight down, pointing at her impending fate. Her legs, covered in shiny nylon were tightly bound together shaping her like a perfect tube providing not a bit of resistance for deep mud waiting patiently below. Her arms ached as they were tightly bound behind her with no hope of getting loose to use her hands to free the rest of her body. Her mouth and what felt like her throat, was filled with the inflatable gag only allowing her to do two things, moan and breathe. Sound was taken from her due to the plugs in her ears and the ability to breathe through her nose was taken as well since Number 3 plugged that as well. Her body stiffened and her eyes widened as Number 3 turned on the vibrators deep within Number 8. Her body suspended in the air writhed and shook as the vibrators let her know they were in control. She moaned loudly, twitching and shaking in her bonds. Number 3 let her hang there twitching and moaning for a few minutes, listening to her breathing erratically through the tube, eyes wide and body struggling to get free from the sexual torment.

Then there was a new hum, a new vibration, Number 8 felt it through her bonds, the winch has started to lower her into the mud. She looked down; eyes still wide from the vibrators that were simultaneously turned off when the winch was turned on, the mud came closer to the tips of her permanently pointed feet; 2 feet, 1 foot, 6 inches, 2 inches, and now the tips of the pointed little feet entered the mud, it had begun! How long would this take, how long until she completely relied on the breathing tube and Number 3 to hoist her out, and for how long would she stay down in there? Her mind raced with questions and, the excitement of it all. Was this really happening? Sure she wore pantyhose before and thongs to purposely pull the hosiery deep between each ass cheek to show her ass off. Sure she not only partook in self bondage but also being tied up by others and tying others up. And yes, she enjoyed stories, pictures and videos about women in deep mud or quicksand. Watching them struggle, beg for help and sometimes enjoy it, rubbing themselves in it, masturbating in it. And if she was lucky she’d find a video of a woman wearing pantyhose in the mud or quicksand and she could hear her legs rustling together with the sound of soft nylon rubbing against itself as the helpless woman struggled only to sink deeper. But this, this was everything at once, this was sensory overload! Her mind raced, did she ask for this? Was this apart of her plan, her session? Or, did Number 3 put this altogether on her own? Whatever it was, it was in fact, incredible! It was terrifying and yet an incredible turn on!

The mud reached her ankle now and slowly worked up her nylon covered calves. She looked down just as her knees went under and she struggled a bit, she could feel the nylon rubbing against nylon as her tightly bound legs struggled against their bonds. She felt the work mud between her legs and all around them as her thighs sunk into the mire. She shrieked as the mud touched her crotch and filled in between her ass that was separated by the thong of her leotard, it sent shivers up her spine and at that moment, Number 3 turned back on the vibrators causing Number 8 to shriek loader followed by deeply moaning through the breathing tube. Her feet and legs now being squeezed together by the pressure of the mud, as if the bonds on her legs weren’t enough the mud firmly pressed in on the areas not bound by the ropes and harness. She was firmly pressed to herself, the feeling of the firm consistent pressure was both somehow, comforting and scary. Number 8 still suspended by the hoist writhed in her bondage as the vibrators took control of her body; she struggled violently as the mud creeped up her flat stomach and into the small of her back. She had forgotten the leotard had a low cut back which allowed the soft mud fill in against her bare skin, she squealed and with surprise, her hands flexing and struggling in their bonds behind her as they sunk in to the mire. And then, just like that, the vibrators stopped. Number 8 sunk another inch or two then felt the tension from overhead go loose. She had achieved a suspended state in the mud. About 1/3 of her was tightly buried in the deep, dark mud pit. She wiggled her pointed toes only to find no bottom beneath them. Her legs barely moved but she could feel the soft mud against her soiled pantyhose now and it once again sent a shiver up her spine. That shiver cost her though, as she sunk another inch or two. The mud slowly worked its way up her abdomen; soon her breasts came to rest on top of the thick, gooey mess. Her breathing increased again, her chest heaving on the surface of the mud; she struggled a bit which caused the mud to slowly rise up then over her breasts. As the mud came up and over her breasts, it flowed down between them where the leotard exposed them. She gasped through the breathing tube as best she could as the mud flowed down between her breasts, her nipples stiffened, her chest heaved in and out as she threw her head back moaning. Her eyes wide taking in the sky above, she wondered to herself how much longer she’d be able to see that perfect blue sky.

Something out of the corner caught her attention, it was Number 3. She was laying on the ground on a blanket, the remote to the wench that lowered Number 8 into The Pit in her left hand and large vibrator in her right. She was pressing vibrator against her own pantyhose and spandex leotard covered crotch as she rubbed her pantyhose covered legs together. She moaned and writhed about on the blanket on the floor of the forest. Her feet, just as small and Number 8’s, pointed so tight they looked like they’d cramp that way. Number 8 could see her pointed nipples through the leotards and even though her ears were plugged, she could still hear the shrieks, moans and screams from Number 3 as she brought herself to climax, apparently over and over again. “She was getting off on this! She was getting off on my predicament!” Number 8 thought to herself. “No surprise I suppose, after all Number 1 did pair up members perfectly for their sessions,” she told herself. Number 8 saw Number 3 making eye contact now, there was a passion, a yearning there. Number 3 stopped for a moment, looked Number 8 up and down (at least what was left of her above the mud) and spoke, “When Number 1 came to me and told me about your fantasies I was shocked and excited. Until you joined The Group, no one else liked what I liked. I’ve been a fan of women helplessly trapped in quicksand and deep mud for as long as I can remember. I’ve done it myself you know, in this very pit. See this is my property, I have about 100 acres here and yes this isn’t the only pit. I’ve made several, 5 to be exact. Some made of mud, clay, peat, actual quicksand, and the thickest, Oobleck. In case you don’t know, Oobleck is cornstarch and water, it so thick it will suck the pantyhose right off of your body. Today you are in the peat pit, it is thick, it is deep, (well, all of them are deep, I designed them that way. After all what fun is it if you don’t go completely under, right?) I have spent afternoons here, sunk up to my head. My face turned toward the sky, keeping calm enough to just keep my turned up face above the muck. Breathing gently and enjoying the feeling of my pointed feet trapped deep in the mud, my legs squeezed together, and arms pinned to my sides and pressure squeezing me from my chin down to my pointed little toes.”

Number 3 continued, “And now you’re here, my first visitor, my first playmate. I can’t tell you how happy I am about this. You know the rules right?” Number 8 nodded her head. “That’s right, now that we have established a connection; we are allowed to participate privately without the planning from Number 1. As long as you agree, we can contact each other privately and whenever you want we can come here and play. By the way, one of the pits is covered by a heated an air conditioned shed so, yeah, any time you want. My only rule, you MUST sink in pantyhose. How does that sound to you?”

Number 8 moaned, rolled her eyes into the back of her head and nodded yes repeatedly.

A huge smile came over Number 3’s face, “Good” she replied. And with that turned the vibrators back on that were deep within Number 8. Number 8’s eyes widened, she shrieked and moaned loudly and with all of that, she started sinking again. “Sorry dear, we’re here to fulfill fantasies not talk that we can do later. But for now, you must sink, keep struggling dear, keep twitching, and writhe your bound little body for me.”

The mud had reached Number 8’s neck now and slowly worked its way up to her chin. She turned her face upwards, but still the mud consumed her. Her body still twitching the mud worked its way up her neck to her ears and now it started over her chin. She squealed through the tub, her eyes wide and somehow yearning for help from Number 3. Number 3 saw and softly answered, “Now, now, now, not until you are completely submerged. You know what you asked for, I mean sure, I added or put together some of your requests. But you have to admit, that must feel incredible! How helpless you must feel, how compressed, what’s it like for you? Do you like that your feet are permanently pointed? Do you love the feeling of your nylon covered legs struggling against their bonds? How about your arms, so useless, so helpless. And that gag, OH MY that gag, how full does your mouth feel? Sore yet from how full it is? Does it feel like a huge, long cock down the back of your throat?”

The mud was over Number 8’s gag now and started to cover her nose. Her eyes looked wild! Her pupils almost completely dilated and wide as the mud now framed the tip of her head and around to just below the bottom eye lids. It was almost over, she was almost submerged. She wiggled the tips of her pointed feet and yet there was no bottom to be felt. As she did so, she carefully looked down as if to visually guide her toes. Number 3 picked up on this as she pointed her own feet in her ballet slippers since she was having yet another orgasm brought on by the visual spectacle and the vibrating wand in her right hand. “Looking for a bottom dear?” She questioned. “Well, let’s see, you are 5 foot 3 inches, which means in order for your pointed little toes to finally touch bottom, where you’ll be able to stand en pointe, you have about another 2 feet, 9 inches if my memory is correct. Number 8 started to make sounds through the breathing tube that Number 3 could only discern as protest. “Don’t worry so much dear” Number 3 calmly said. “I’ve been in that pit many times, alone and without the use of the winch to hoist me back out. You are safe, I’m going anywhere. You have the breathing tube and when the time is right, I’ll simply hoist your muddy, bound body from the mire. Swing you over above solid ground, remove the gag and then I’ll use a hose I have over here to rinse you off. Once you’re all rinsed off, I’ll lower you to the ground and lay you on your stomach where I’ll undo the body harness straps first then your hands and arms. As you slowly recover, I’ll undo the ropes that bind your legs and ankles. Finally I’ll peal those ballet shoes from your pointed little feet and, if you want, hold you so you feel safe and calm.”

With that, Number 8 sighed only to be over stimulated again by the vibrators turned up to high power, causing her to twitch and shake violently. Her body slowly slipped beneath the surface of the mud and all that was left was the breathing tube that echoed moans, squeals other strange sounds. The surface of the mud quaked as Number 8’s body, somewhere deep below struggled against her bondage from the rope, harness and compression of the mud. Number 3 thrust her own vibrator against herself as she locked her legs together at the ankles and moaned loudly. All the while, she listened for Number 8 through the breathing tube, the moans never ended. And if the moans continued, she was still safe.

Number 8’s submergence lasted about 15 minutes. The load moans slowly slipped into soft moans and heavy breathing. Number 3 put down her own toy, and crawled to a standing position. She softly caressed herself, feeling the nylon under her finger tips, bent over and picked up the wench controller. Smiling, she pressed the button to raise the bound and muddy Number 8 to the surface. Within moments, Number 8 was suspended over dry land and cool stream of water splashed over her muddy, bound body. The peat mud came off to reveal and her bound little frame. She was gently lowered to the ground where her gag was removed first, and then her harness was removed. She gasped and breathed deep as the plugs were removed from her nose and ears. She gazed up at Number 3 and said, “Number 3, that, that was incredible…” Number 3 interrupted her, “you can call me Heather, Sarah” Sarah smiled, “Ok, Heather it is. So what’s next?” Heather knelt down next to Sarah’s legs, “Well, I untie these ropes, you put on some footwear to walk in, (I have a pair of ballet slippers like mine over here for you) and we can either sit out in the sun for a bit or head to the house where you can get changed and we can relax. I have a change of clothes for you at the house.”

They walked slowly back to the house, Sarah drying off in the sun as they walked their bodies glistening as the sunlight danced on their nylon and spandex covered bodies. Their feet gently walked the dirt path through the woods, their ballet slippers not making a sound as they went. Reaching the house, Sarah showered and changed into a long t-shirt and a pair of yoga tights as did Heather. Starving, they sat at the table ate, talking about the day’s events. Smiling, they sat close to one another, their thighs resting against the other; the warmth of their bodies being felt by the other.

“So what do you want to do tomorrow?” Heather said.
Sarah, turned a bit, smirked devilishly and replied, “Tomorrow?! Dear, we still have plenty of day left today, tell me about this Oobleck pit of yours….”

To be continued…

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