I’m sure you were all aware of the Housewife Bondage Club: aka the HBC. A glib name for an otherwise sinister and dangerous trafficking organisation.
As the moniker implied, the type of stock being taken and sold off consisted of housewives, girlfriends, mothers, aunts, nieces or daughters. The awful truth being that once abduction was successful, it was unlikely these poor creatures were seen again.
Nobody knew how to stop these bastards either. The layers of corruption seemingly went all the way to the top, a cabal of powerful men and women were complicit in this heinous pit of hell.
But did I say that once taken, escape was unlikely? In most cases yes.
Paula Parry was an exception to the rule. Paula was snatched leaving her house a few months ago, but somehow managed to escape. Furthermore, she was able to identify her captors and was now living in hiding…..moved from house to house. Her name had been changed on many occasions, with her life now consisting of being a different kind of prisoner.
That said, Paula’s testimony was going to put a lot of people away for a very long time. Who knows? Some of the victims of the HBC may be recovered from the various places they were taken to and imprisoned. Showing extraordinary bravery, Paula was waiting for her day in court. Her chance for justice.
So here it was, a grey morning that offered little. Paula had carefully checked all the doors and windows in her unassuming apartment, before heading to the bathroom to shower. The slightly run down appearance of the building was designed to fade it into the background. The interior wasn’t much better….dated decor, ancient appliances and the smell of damp was all she had to call a home. Paula smiled bitterly at her mousy reflection. The long blonde hair she loved had been cut short, even her vibrant personality was muted in her exile.
Shower done, she knew the Feds would be here soon to take her to the courthouse. As per the protocol, she expected her ride to be something ordinary, a beaten up vehicle with no plates. She returned to the bedroom and saw the van parked across the road….clearly they were here early. Shrugging her shoulders, she began to dress.
She had put on her underwear and pantyhose as the knock on the door thundered throughout. She threw on her blouse and headed toward the peephole…..the 2 figures outside were in black and wearing hoodies. Paula’s burner phone trilled as the text came through. The safe word the Feds agreed upon had flashed up on the screen and she opened the door.
Before Paula could utter a word, the men rushed her and she was knocked to the floor. The ripping of duct tape was all she could hear as the larger of the men sat on her and pinned her down, leather gloved hand clamped over her mouth. The tape was being wrapped around her ankles, legs and thighs. Paula struggled and tried to scream for help, but the hand gagging her was too strong and she felt her air being cut off as the gloved paw snaked up to pinch her nose. Her blouse was ripped off and she saw the other assailant go into the kitchen. He returned shortly, with a pile of dirty laundry in his hands.
She was weakening as her oxygen was restricted and the struggling started to lessen. The dirty panties were balled up and shoved roughly into her mouth. A few strips of tape sealed them in before some worn pantyhose was placed over her head and stretched down to encase her torso and arms. More tape was coiled around her body and wrists as she writhed around in her nylon prison. Paula stared helplessly as the final tape flurry was added, with several wraps of the sticky stuff now tightly around her eyes and mouth.
She lay. Breathing heavily and with the sound of her own pulse thundering in her ears and the swish of the nylons as she twitched, trying to break through the denier. She felt the boot of one of the attackers on her crotch as he whispered a warning to keep still. She did as she was told and settled down. The fear rising up and the claustrophobic nylon and tape was all she could focus on. That is until she heard the phone call.
It seemed that the Feds she entrusted her safety to were in it all along. The usual agents had been reassigned, with her new handlers making their debut this morning. Paula knew she wasn’t going to get away. But more to the point….what would be her punishment for daring to escape the first time?
After a while lying still, Paula couldn’t hear anything. Both of her captors seemed to have left the apartment. Was this is a chance? She mentally knew every inch of her home and remembered the nail scissors she had left on the coffee table near the tv. Maybe she could get over there and try to cut herself free. Her phone wasn’t far….a call to the police might yet save her. She managed to get herself into a sitting position and she shuffled over to the table….blindly trying to locate the scissors. Her fingers were encased in the tough nylon, but she could feel the sharp implements. She managed to puncture a hole in the pantyhose and used her fingers to further rip through the nylon.
The adrenaline was surging through her body as she made a Herculean effort to break her hands completely out of the material. Now she had a proper grip, she used her hands to edge over the sofa where she believed her phone was. The whole escape attempt seemed like an age, but maybe fortune would smile on her again. Well, it would have done….but she heard the heavy footsteps heading toward her and a boot knocked her back to the floor.
Paula yelped as the blow knocked the air from her body and she felt the vice like hand around her throat. The voice was menacing as she was warned that any more shit like this…..she would be sliced up for the raccoons. She heard the other captor tell his colleague to calm down and the hand released her. She spluttered through her panty gag and tried to suck in as much air as the nylon hood would allow.
It seemed the captor with the voice of reason was in charge and he told the brutish bastard who was throttling her to remove the pantyhose and tape from her eyes. Paula was grabbed roughly and the nylon was ripped from her. The tape blinding her was cut away and she blinked furiously. The tape gag underneath was still intact. She looked around and saw a pile of trash bags on the floor, a steel storage box with the lid open. The boss smiled grimly and ordered the heavy goon to start loading all of Paula’s possessions into the trash bags.
He wandered over to the box and started to take out the contents. She stared in horror as the tools of her further ordeal were thrown in front of her. Several rolls of tape, a nightmarish gas mask and a butt plug. He reached into his pocket and dropped her bullet vibe on the floor too. He smirked as she wailed in distress…..but he told her he was being considerate and didn’t want her to be bored while they went on a nice trip.
It was apparent that her fate was now literally about to be sealed. Her body was now hunched into a sitting position, knees pulled up tightly and the tape cocoon was fusing her into this shape. Ahead of this, the pantyhose was cut away from her pussy and ass….the goons took their time in lubing the squat plug and inserting up her. The vibe was similarly placed with great care and set to pulse. During Paula’s brief captivity before, her ass was stretched regularly by her owner and this bore the hallmarks of his treatment.
But the real horror was the gas mask. The bastards made sure she saw all this happening and when the heavy rubber was placed over her now tightly taped head, she could make out through the misty goggles what was next. More tape was added over the mask to weld it firmly to her skull and with the toys inside, torturing her in her tape shell, she was lifted up and placed in the steel box. Her eyes were begging for mercy, the gag and the mask muzzling her screams effectively enough. Next to her head, she saw the holes in the side of the box. The mask had the breathing tubes attached and fed through the box. They would make sure she didn’t suffocate at least.
The lid was the last thing to deal with and it was placed on top….distant sounds of the screws locking the lid on tight and the sensation of being lifted up and carried from the apartment. In her current state, Paula couldn’t move, the only sound she could make was the wheezing grunts as her pussy was edged.
There was no concept of time as she lay cramped and tortured in her box prison. She felt that she might have slept at one point, but the sweltering tape, rubber mask and repeated working of her ass and pussy soon jolted her awake. She couldn’t hear anything from the back of the van and even when she felt the vehicle slow down, there was no way to alert anyone. Her feeble cries more than drowned out and insulated.
Despite this horror, she was also powerless to resist cumming when the vibe had insidiously drew an orgasm from her. She remembered how it felt from her original imprisonment and the shameful sensation of almost craving it again and again. Her ass was so full and once her cunt was stimulated she was starting to feel the pleasure from the plug up her. She couldn’t help as another groan escaped her body as she shuddered in orgasmic torture.
Finally, the van stopped and she heard the doors open. Even through the box, she felt the cooler air whistle into the holes of the structure. Her body was numb, her mind almost the same as the lid was taken off.
One of the bastards remarked that she was still alive and therefore he would get paid. She wanted to shout and curse, but there was nothing left. As she was lifted up, she thought she recognised the house she was brought to. As she was carried to the door, she heard the familiar voice of her owner, the man who paid to enslave and use her…..but not just him….his cunt of a wife too. Paula remembered vividly that the wife was more sadistic and perverted than him.
So it’s here we leave you, dear reader.
Paula Parry is back where she belongs. Body now completely naked, apart from the spiteful ropes cutting into her flesh. She’s safely ensconced in the attic, the large and uncomfortable wooden gag wedged into her mouth. Her pussy and ass empty for the moment.
But her return will be celebrated and indeed, a few close friends will no doubt be invited over to welcome Paula in their own way.
The HBC is still on the lookout for new members.
( Credit to @misstakenmanips for the cover image )
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