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DX Gagorder
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DX Gagorder
Wild fantasy stories of taboo and erotic horror. New adventures from DX, plus classic DX stories from Gag Order. Permanent bondage, mad science, bimbofication, forniphillia sissies, chastity, ponies, hucows, thrills and chills!
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Displaying posts with tag Guillotine.Reset Filter
DX Gagorder
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Dr. Guillotine.
Graphic horror.  Get into the mind of a serial killer who builds his own guillotine!
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DX Gagorder

Dr GuillotineBy DXCopyright 1998, 11/2024 all rights reservedThe following is a graphic horror fa...

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The B-Gill 2000!
Guillotine.
Breast.
Bacon.

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DX Gagorder

Wrongco's NewBreast Guillotine! ! ! Is your slave a little up on herself because her boobs are bi...

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The Ultimate Bondage Technique

By DX

Is there such a thing?  Bondage with no escape, no release?  Bondage no one can free you from?  A woman seeks out the beautiful Mistess Safia to find out.  Erotic Horror!

Copyrighted 9/2006, 8/2023, All rights reserved.



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For a moment, I was lost in the reflection of her eyes, beautiful, expressive ponds of azure.  Her beauty had stunned me and stifled my introduction.  She was perfect.  Her chin, her cheeks, her hair, her body.
We stood in silence. I, dumbfounded, her, silenced. A thick, heavy plate of steel had been riveted over her mouth.  Steel bolts driven through her flesh and bone clamped the plate so tightly, that her dimpled cheeks bulged slightly from its firm grip.
I knew I was in the right place.
"I'm here to see Mistress Safia." I managed to say.  The girl blinked in acknowledgment and ushered me in.  She moved with surprising grace and poise on her wickedly high, spiny heels.  She paused when she noticed me hesitating.  "May I use the bathroom to freshen up?”  I asked.
She led me to a side room and I was surprised at its size.  It was all white tile with Roman columns and naked statues.  I almost screamed when one came to life and reached to take my bag away.  She was encased all in white latex leaving only her eyes, Asian and alluring, peering at me.  She took my jacket and hung it on the open hand of a statue. I then realized that the statue looked too real, with too many human imperfections.  I first decided it was a cast of a real person, but I touched the outreached hand and felt the warmth of a real person, sealed in a resin of some sort to look like marble.  A girl was in there, trapped, helpless, nothing more than a bit of furniture.
I shuddered in fear and ecstacy at the thought.  That was my dream.  To be an object, a conversation piece, a bit of artwork to be viewed and discussed.
It was why I had come.
When I had heard of the legend of the Ultimate Bondage Technique, I knew instantly that I had to experience it for myself.  I tried to glean more information, but there seemed to be none.  All I could get was, a friend of a friend who had a cousin who had overheard from a guy in a bar, story.  The stories that I did get were wild and extreme, painful, exotic and permanent.  Women or men twisted like putty for the amusement of others.
The notion that I could be that object haunted my dreams and because of it, I could no longer have normal sex.  I would pretend to be a statue and let men pose me, and remain still as a doll while the had their way with me.  It was kinky, but I had to have something more.  Knowing that others would be getting off on my suffering filled my waking thoughts.  I had to have it.
The one consistent element in the stories that I heard was Mistress Safia.
So, I sought her out.
Through a long list of contacts, I finally got an audience with her at the S&M club she frequented.  She was flocked by her many slaves and admirers.  When I had my chance, I bowed to her and begged her for the Ultimate Bondage Technique.  She smiled at me with her golden eyes and said nothing.
I waited on my knees. She had other suitors and fans and slaves and mistresses meet with her while I continued to wait until my knees ached.  In between visitors, I asked her again.  I felt her warm eyes fall on me.
"You may not." She said.
"But why?" I asked.
"Because you do not know what it is."
"Please, I beg you, tell me."
"No."
I remained there.  I ignored the pain in my knees and the ache building in my back and neck.  Hours passed and people came and went.  Eventually, she left, with her entourage in tow.  I remained there, struggling with the pain of kneeling on the concrete floor. The club began to close and I remained there.
They turned off the lights and I remained there.  Awash with agony from my position of reverence, I refused to move.  My bladder finally demanded release and I let go there on the floor.  I sobbed from the pain and shame, but I did not move.
Hunger stressed me but I did not move. I mewed and moaned in pain, but I did not lift my head or rise from my knees.
I passed out.
I was roused by a girl.  She was one of the club slaves.  She brought me a rice ball, tea and broth.  I ignored the protest in my cramping limbs and resumed my position.  I ate without raising my head as the girl cleaned up my waste.
The club opened and people walked around and ignored me.  It was as if everyone knew about my meeting with Mistress Safia.
Mistress Safia did not show, but I did not move.  When the club closed, the slave girl came back and after cleaning up where I again wet the floor, she took my soiled clothes.  She gave me a sponge bath, then left me there naked.
I remained there until I passed out again.
When I awoke, the club had just opened.  My supper of rice and broth was there and I ate wolfishly.  I then resumed my position and waited.  I was dizzy and delirious from pain and lack of real sleep that I did not hear when Mistress Safia spoke to me.
"Have you discovered what the Ultimate Bondage is?"
My voice was dry. "No."
She then went back to her enclave, ignoring me.  I could only kneel in my torrent of agony, trembling from exhaustion.  I passed out before the club closed.
The girl came and cleaned me up and brought me my rice ball when the club opened again.  I found myself sitting, unable to prop myself up on my knees again.  I only sat, my head bowed, and waited.
"I have learned something."  I said when her delicate perfume drifted over me.  The club was loud and the music was throbbing and my voice was a crumbling whisper and yet she could hear me easily.  "I am here of my own will.  I can leave when I wish.  When the pain overtakes me, or the boredom, or the hunger, I can get up and go home.  But were I bound, I would not have such a choice.  The Ultimate Bondage must mean that no one would have the choice.  I would be bound in such away that no one could free me.  I would remain trapped forever."
I felt her eyes smile.  "And what else have you learned?"
"That physical pain is limited.  The body will eventually shut down, nerves will numb."
She nodded.  "But does bondage have to be painful?"
"Not physically."  I said, a little surprised all this was suddenly clear to me.  "What is more painful, however, than the loss of freedom?  To be restrained completely."
"But you come to me willingly. How can you be bound by choice?"
"Because at some point I will long for freedom.  I will want to do something, eat what I want, have sex, watch T.V., and that choice will be denied me.  Regardless of how hard I struggle, I will be unable to escape. I will be forced to suffer my lack of freedom."
She smiled and walked away.  I knew I was now doomed to undergo the Ultimate Bondage Technique.  I trembled at the thought.

Teaser.  For the rest of the story and larger, higher res art, consider supporting us at:
https://subscribestar.adult/posts/994828

Copyrighted 8/2023 all rights reserved.


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