A Decade and More in Bondage

I don't know if others are interested in this. It's an interview transcript with a woman who says her husband has kept her hands and arms fastened firmly behind her back (in a custom-made orthopedic device) without any break, day and night, for more than a decade.

She says she's happy with this arrangement, with no wish to be free.

I can't swear whether this is fiction or non-fiction. The reader can decide.

If it's real I suppose this would be a nightmare for some. Maybe a dream for others.

Here's the text: 

A Decade and More in BondageTRANSCRIPT OF TAPE DICTATED BY MRS. LAURA BELLINGTON KEYS
San Diego, California
 
    You want me to tell about everything? Everything what? Oh, about my arms being bound all the time? Well, what sort of detail do you want?
               Okay, I’ll shorten up the early stuff. My Mother used to tie my arms behind my back for being bad. You know? Masturbating. She was positive it would make me insane. A lot of people used to think that. Well, each time she caught me at it she made me stay all tied up twice as long – fifteen minutes and then the next time it was a half hour, and then an hour, and then by the time I was in high school it was 8 hours and then 16 hours. Well, she figured she couldn’t send me to school all tied up, so it worked  out that she tied me every afternoon for three hours but it counted for only two. Know how I mean?
     

TRANSCRIPT OF TAPE DICTATED BY MRS. LAURA BELLINGTON KEYS 

    You want me to tell about everything? Everything what? Oh, about my arms being bound all the time? Well, what sort of detail do you want?

    Okay, I’ll shorten up the early stuff. My Mother used to tie my arms behind my back for being bad. You know? Masturbating. She was positive it would make me insane. A lot of people used to think that. Well, each time she caught me at it she made me stay all tied up twice as long – fifteen minutes and then the next time it was a half hour, and then an hour, and then by the time I was in high school it was 8 hours and then 16 hours. Well, she figured she couldn’t send me to school all tied up, so it worked  out that she tied me every afternoon for three hours but it counted for only two. Know how I mean?

    Well, this was all straight forward stuff but Jameson saw me all tied up in the back yard and this made him all hot. He was going to medical school, big college man, know what I mean? Plus that, he was handsome, my God was he ever handsome! He never looked at me before – hah! – a little pimply-faced high school girl. But with my arms tied behind my back – Ha Ha! That was a horse of another color.

     Now Jameson, has a kind of thing about tying up. You know, bondage and all like that. Sure, just like the members of the Society. Just like – well look – you have your arms fastened behind you nearly all the time yourself, I don’t think I ever saw you with your arms loose before today. It’s the same way with us.

    Okay? So here he sees me all tied up and boom – it hits him. He makes an excuse to come over and become friends with us. Mother fell for him real hard, too, just like I did. Besides, she’s always gone strong for doctors.

     Well, I was uneasy about the reason I was tied. Kind of ashamed – know what I mean? But Mother tells him anyhow. Not in front of me, thank God. I’d have simply died right then and there.

     I found out later, he got a big hard on just hearing Mother talk about it. What does he do? He tells Mother she’s doing exactly the right thing and if she can’t break my habit any other way, why it might be necessary to keep me tied up all the time.

     “All the time?” Mother asks, thinking of school, and he says yes. Right then I think I had something like 32 hours of being tied and I had worked off maybe 6 or 8 of them, and he says why not let him try some psychoanalysis on me. He says it’ll work just as well with me tied or not.

     Well he worked psychoanalysis on me all right. That no-good bum. Look, I’m kidding. He’s the dearest, sweetest person in the whole world. I’d let him cut off my arms and my legs too if he wanted.

     Anyhow, what the dearest sweetest guy in the world did to me, was just plain out of this world. I came and lay on his couch, see? All tied, see? He has a little light for me to look at and he hypnotizes me. He talks to me softly and gently about how nice it is to be tied up and it feels so good and all. He gets me drowsy and like I’m in a trance and he comes and puts his hands on me.

     What’s that? Oh sure I knew what he was doing. I wasn’t unconscious or anything. He talks real softly, about it not really driving me crazy and not being a sin or anything; says it’s all right if someone else does it for you. And he’s moving his hand around and around and I’m getting hotter and hotter, and finally I’m squirming and panting and then I go off like a rocket. Man alive! I was never so thrilled in my life.

     Then he points out that this psychoanalysis is a long drawn-out kind of thing. It takes a lot of visits. And if I enjoyed this first one – and of course he could tell I did – why the best thing was not to say anything about it but just come back again for another session. Then, he goes through the routine of how nice it is to be all tied up and helpless and have someone love you and boom – he makes me go off again. Twice, in one afternoon.

     Well, this worked into a regular affair. I’d come to his place all tied up and he’d take off my panties and I’d lie down on his couch. He hypnotized me, I mean really. He had this little light and I’d look at it. There wasn’t any other light in the room and I’d look at this light and it seemed as though I couldn’t look away when I wanted to. Only, of course, I didn’t really want to look away.

     He’d talk to me real quiet-like and all the time he’d be playing with my pussy, with his hands, you know. Lordy Lord, how I loved to feel his hands on me down there!

     Now the things he’d be telling me sort of all followed the same kind of pattern. You know what I mean. He’d say a bunch of things that were true, like I was all tied up and couldn’t do a thing but this felt kind of nice to have his hand there. It was dark and quiet and it was real nice to lie back and this way and let him do the things he was doing. And then he’d say things, like about how I really liked to have my arms tied behind me because it felt good to be helpless – and somehow, because he said it, it was true. I did like it. I enjoyed being all tied up that way and having him play with me. Lordy Lord, who wouldn’t like a thing like that?

     Well Mother said I was getting much better. I was calmer now, more relaxed. Ha! Who wouldn’t be more relaxed when he was making me come twice each afternoon? And the hypnosis was having an effect too. I did like being tied up. With my arms behind me like that, I was always being reminded of how it was to have him diddle me. I was thinking how nice it felt last time and how he was going to do it to me again next time. I liked it. You know what I mean? Lordy Lord, I loved it.

     Only about now, we had a kind of problem. Just as I was getting to like being tied up, I was about through my sentence. Mother said that after one more day, I could have my arms free again. I was already so far under Jameson’s influence that I was disappointed. Disappointed? I was almost ready to cry! Was I so well that I wouldn’t be going to Jameson any more? This was a tragedy.

     Well Jameson told me what to do and I did it: I let my mother catch me masturbating. Deliberately. I faked it, you know what I mean? I didn’t get up when she called me but stayed in bed and began playing with myself. It was the first time since I found out how much nicer it was to have it done to me. I couldn’t make myself come, not in the time for Mother to come see why I wasn’t getting up.

     Oh she made a big fuss and cried and I got real unhappy. I was almost at the point of telling her I faked it. You know? Lordy Lord, I hated to have her cry like that. But she had called Jameson and he came over and made with more of that doctor talk; very comforting. He made her feel a lot better and he said there was only one thing to do, keep me tied up all the time. Keep my arms tied all the time I didn’t actually have to be doing something with my arms.

     Mother asked what about school and he said it wasn’t important. And actually school was almost over for the year, it was May then. I think Mother called the school and told them I was unable to continue school because of some health problem. I don’t know exactly what she said, Jameson worded it for her, wrote it all down and even rehearsed her before she called up the school.

     Anyhow, I didn’t go to school any more that term. I had my arms tied behind my back all the time. I even slept with my arms tied behind me.

     Now that was kind of an exciting thing. I think Jameson kind of concentrated on that in our hypnosis sessions, you know what I mean? Somehow I got the notion that it was some big accomplishment if I could sleep with my arms tied behind my back. It was an achievement, something to be proud of. Of course anybody could do it, all you have to do is be tied up for several nights and you’ll be sleeping. Hell, you know that! You sleep with your arms tied behind your back, don’t you? Sure, well you know there’s nothing really to it, but it seemed to me that, Gee Whiz, this was a big thing. You know? I don’t think I slept very well for the first few nights, nobody does. But after awhile I could sleep just as well tied up as any other way and I was all puffed up about it.

     Well the idea was that my arms would be untied for anything special, and for awhile they were. Mother’d untie me now and then and say I had to do these math problems or something, but after awhile she wouldn’t undo me. She’d just show me the open book and make me tell her how to do them, while my arms stayed all tied up.

     Part of this was the way my arms were tied. At first, it was just a matter of tying my wrists together, behind me. Just crossed and tied together, you know? But then my wrists got all black and blue from the cord and Jameson began to get more elaborate about it. He put my arms across the back of my waist – like yours are now – each hand in the other elbow and then he’d wrap them together with a cloth bandage or something. After a couple of weeks he tied my arms with adhesive tape and they always stayed tied, without being undone for several days at a time. I wore strapless or halter-necked clothes so I didn’t have to put my arms into sleeves or anything. It just worked out that there was no reason to undo myself at all. I think for the last month of vacation I wasn’t undone even once.

     All that time, of course, I was having sessions with Jameson. I’d lie down on his couch and he’d take off my panties and climb right on top of me. No more of that finger stuff, this was the real thing now. And Lordy Lord, how I loved it! I just couldn’t get enough. When my period was here I didn’t really want it, not the first few days anyhow. Jameson would just diddle me then. But the last couple of days I was just as hot as I could be. I really wanted it. Lordy Lord, I was hot in my panties then.

     Jameson was afraid of getting me pregnant and he always wore a condom, which cut down on his fun, of course, but me – I loved every minute of it.

     Toward the end of that summer we got into a problem. Into two problems really. Mother was sick and it got so we could all tell it. She had cancer. Jameson told her she should go to some particular doctor and she went but it was really too late. She had several operations but she was dying. All of us know that, Mother too.

     The other problem was school, how was I to go to school with my arms all tied? For I sure didn’t want to be undone and neither did Jameson. Mother never discussed it with her regular doctor, her cancer doctor, I mean. She relied on Jameson who wasn’t a doctor at all, of course.

     Jameson put me into a cast. A great big plaster cast from my neck right down to my hips. Mother helped him do it in our bathroom, it was a pretty messy thing to do. There was plaster all over the place. I mean all over too.

     You see, Jameson had all these bandages that had plaster already in them and all you had to do was soak them in water and start wrapping me up with them. Bits of plaster fell off, here and there, and there was plaster all over the place.

     My arms were already adhesive taped behind me and Jameson and Mother wrapped me up in these plaster bandages from my neck, right down to my hips with my arms inside. Lordy Lord, they used almost a ton of those plaster bandages and I was encased in this huge sticky wet goo all over the whole upper part of my body. To make it all firmer, Jameson bent metal screening around me and up over my shoulders and around my neck and all, right over the plaster and then he put on more plaster on top. He finished off the neck part with some heavy wire and made into a loop at the back that stuck out of the plaster.

     Mother took me to school in that heavy, heavy cast with a regular dog leash, clipped to the loop on the back of my neck. It was a couple of days after the term started and mother was obviously very sick. She was a yellow-gray and so thin you’d think she was a sideshow skeleton or something. You know what I mean?

     Well the school people fell all over themselves and almost kissed Mother’s feet. Of course, I could attend classes and skip gym. The rest of the class had to do written work but the teacher would come down to my desk and let me whisper my answers in her ear. I got all sorts of extra credit, partly because of the cast and partly because everyone knew Mother was dying. I got real high grades and graduated with academic distinction. I was third in the whole senior class of over three hundred students when really I should have been maybe around the middle or maybe even below the middle.

     By then, Mother was in the hospital and had three operations. Jameson promised her he’d look after me. He did too. He patched up my cast with fresh plaster whenever it looked as though it might be coming apart and I wore it the whole year and a little more, until after Mother’s funeral.

     It wasn’t until after we were married that he cut off the cast and made a special brace for my arms, all aluminum. He’d been kicked out of medical school then and was going in for making orthopedic appliances. He got real fond of leading me about on a leash so when he took off the cast he put this collar on me. It’s aluminum too. I wish he had used stainless steel, like your collar because I have to be real careful or my neck turns black. I have to keep nagging at Jameson all the time to keep something under my collar, even with him scouring it like an aluminum pan.

     Jameson, got some money from his folks and of course, I got quite a bit from Mother. It took some time to get everything settled and then we moved out here to San Diego. The drug store makes us a good living, even without the appliance business.

     Oh? Our sex life? We’re happy as a couple of pigs in the mud. Lordy Lord, I do love sex. What would the world be without it, I always say.

     Well Jameson always put his hand there first and he moves it around, kind of, and holds it. He leaves his hand there until it gets wet. Some of the wet is maybe perspiration and some is that goo, you know, the stuff that comes out to lubricate things down there?

     Well then, he starts working me over with his fingers. He goes inside the lips and moves them around. Not too hard but on the other hand not too gentle either. There’s a spot up close to the top that just drives me wild when he touches it. And he touches it plenty. He moves it around and around until, I nearly go crazy. Lordy Lord I’m just about ready to climb the walls by the time he goes to the next step. I’m as hot as can be.

     The next step is putting his finger up inside. I’m begging for old One-Eyed Dick by then but he won’t put his man up inside me. He just diddles me with his finger, while he keeps a thumb on my jumpy wet spot and I writhe around until I nearly go clear out of my skull. Lordy Lord, I’m just begging for it then. I want his rod, his shaft, his column. I’m just aching to have that man of his clear up inside me.

     Finally he lies on top of me and old One-Eyed sniffs his own way up into the cave. Jameson won’t use a hand to guide him in and honest, sometimes I think old One-Eyed is going to make a new hole for himself before he finds the right place.

     Lordy Lord, he shoves that huge knob up inside me until it seems it’s going to come out my mouth. Know what I mean? Of course you do. It’s the same with you too. With all women. You sure you want this sort of thing?

     Okay, well he goes in and out, up and down, side to side, around in a circle, slowly and slower yet, until I’m bumping him up as hard as I can and drawing figure eights with my ass all over the place. Honest, I kind of go nuts, I think. I can’t see, I can’t hear, I can’t talk, I can’t do a damn thing except feel that big pecker of his pumping away inside me. Sometimes I bruise the hell out of my – pussy. It’s sore for days, sometimes because I bump him too hard. You see, I arch up like a kind of bridge and he arches his body too so the only place I’m supporting him is right there on that soft mound. Like I say, it gets all bruised. I’ll bet if the hair weren’t there, you could see a big black and blue mar. Lordy Lord, is it ever sore!

     Anyhow, we’re playing jig-jog as hard as we can and boom, I go off like a skyrocket. Lordy Lord, I can pretty near throw him right off like I’m a bucking horse, only he’s pinned there by old One-Eye. You know what I mean?

     Well, we never stop there. Jameson, waits long enough for me to get my breath and then he’s banging away again and I get hotter then all hell again and boom, off goes another skyrocket.

     Well, from here on we vary. Sometimes Jameson hauls his ashes too and we quit at that. Most of the time he wants to keep on swinging and we do. Whenever he goes off he squeezes my middle so damned hard, I pretty well die from not being able to breathe. Know what I mean?

     Oh Lordy Lord, all this talking about sex has me as hot as can be right now. Look, you got enough for your book now? Would you please go to the front of the store and tell Jameson I need him? Real bad, I need him.

     How’s that? My arms? No, they stay this way all the time. It’s been, oh, let’s see, eleven years now. My nails? Oh sure, Jameson takes it off and cuts my nails down once a month, or so. No, there are screws so he can undo it. No, when it’s off, I don’t try to move my arms any. Who wants to?

     Look, tell Jameson to come as soon as he can, will you?

 

 

From the book “Collars, Corsets and Chains” by John Francis Trelawny, 1968, Publishers Export Co., Inc, San Diego, CA.