A Phone Call pt 1

A Phone Call.

My phone rang, I reached an arm out from under the bed clothes and answered it, “Neil Barker is not here and if you want a Taxi you can sod off” I announced sleepily trying to imitate an answer-phone, expecting the call to be from Harry asking me to do a Taxi run for him.

“Its Elsie, you replied to my email.” a small female voice announced.

“Elsie, what email,” I struggled to shake the sleep from my head.

“The one replying to me on the bondage site.”

“Oh, its one a.m. here in the UK. I was asleep,” I explained.

“I know it’s one a.m, I’m sorry but can you talk?”

“Actually I have an early start, can I ring you back some other time?” I really did not want to be bothered.

“Please, it says you are a mechanic, in your profile.”

“Taxi driver nowadays” I corrected.

“But you were a Mechanic? you have tools,” she asked.

“I am not coming to fix your bloody motor at one in the morning, goodbye.” I slammed the phone down.

It rang again, “We were cut off.” she said.

“No I put the bloody phone down, now sod off.”

“No don’t go, I need help,”

“Call the bloody AA,” I replied angrily.

“They don’t do bondage”

“Eh,” I thought I had mis heard

“They don’t do bondage.”

“I thought that’s what you said,” I replied thoughts of sleep receding.

“You replied to my email thread, don’t do it you said.”

“Remind me” I said as I often put stupid comments on web sites.

“The bondage machine, the Deprivator attachment.” she said quietly.

“Elsie, I don’t remember an Elsie.”

“Elsie, underscore forward slash forward slash fuck, thats F U C H hyphen slut.”

“From Los Angeles.”

“No I’m in North London, I lied.” she admitted.

“So am I,” I agreed.

“I hoped you were, I recognised the pub from the photo on your profile.”

“Yeah, I live just down the street from the Three Compasses, but I really do need to get to sleep.”

“Sorry but I need help, my phone credit is running down, please help me, please come to” and she gave her address.

“Two O’clock tomorrow, O.K”

“Noooo now please, I’m begging, the key is under the flower pot and Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

We were cut off.

I hung the phone up and tried to sleep, but I thought about the web site and of course I had to fire up the old Laptop and check her out.

She looked about thirty, as far as I could tell from a close up photo of her Vagina and Anus, and she was clearly into fucking machines and bondage, I found I had replied to a post of hers about a an expensive Italian bondage, restraint and penetration machine and said she had one and asked had anyone tried the permanent deprivation fitting, The Deprivator.

I wrote, “Change the Pop rivets for Rover 25 trim clips in case you need to remove it.”

She had replied “You don’t remove it Ass hole, that’s the whole point.”

I found a link to the manufacturers, the basic suite cost around fifteen thousand pounds assembled and tested, and included an array of tools and accessories built around a restraint seat something like a cross between a dentists chair and something used by a gynecologist.

I went through a whole range of emotions in about thee minutes, interest, excitement then fear at the thought it might go horribly wrong and seriously maim someone.

I was pulling my pants up over my erection before I really started thinking, logic suggested I should be trying to get some sleep, but the thought of someone helpless waiting for me was suddenly something I could not ignore, I did not even bother with my jacket.

I remembered my Mondeo was parked up round the back of the pub so I opened the bedroom window and looked down the street and saw my old friend Leroy waiting for fares in his Toyota Minicab just outside the Massage place.

I grabbed a few tools from the kitchen threw them in my sports bag and ran to the Minicab, I gave him the address and he did his usual wheel spinning, tyre howling Lewis Hamilton impression before dropping me off, “How much?” I asked.

“You do me a favour some time, OK” he grinned, and I knew I would end up saving him a couple of hundred on a full service for his clapped out Toyota for a ten pound ride but, he was not a bad guy, atrocious driver but OK.

There was a key under the plant pot, but I was not expecting the address to be a town house, most places around here were subdivided into bed sits, but I unlocked the door and stepped into well maintained, polished, expensively carpeted middle class luxury.

I looked around, to the left a Dining room, 12 chairs around a polished mahogany table under a glittering chandelier, a striking portrait of an Admiral dominated one wall, an ornate fireplace another.

The kitchen was beautifully clean, the units apparently brand new, the lounge, all leather settees and wide-screen TV again spotless with no sign of anyone around at all.

I ventured up the wide staircase, the stairwell open to a clerestory on the roof, the open stair treads brightly polished, dangerously so I thought, as I climbed up and explored the upper floor, a study with a computer on standby showed hopeful signs of recent activity, but bedrooms and bathroom were again immaculate and empty.

“I’m on the third floor” I heard the faint shout from above drifting down the stairwell.

I climbed the stairs, “Where,”

“Here, Oh can you see the panel at the end of the corridor, move the picture, the handle is” She stopped as I pushed the door open.

The room was hidden, actually a part of the building next door, accessed from the blank end of a corridor through this secret entrance.

Whips and belts and chains hung in neat rows on the wall, and as I turned I saw the bondage machine.

It was big, a chair something like a cross between an Dentists chair and one used by a Gynecologist sat to the left rear of a big metal frame, bigger than a double bed, with a large pedestal under the chair and a white control module standing waist high to the right front of the frame and a mass of wires and pipes straggled untidily.

She was strapped into the chair, reclining so her little face with the phone hand free headset still in place seemingly peering out over her crotch, her labia now painfully stretched by a huge aluminium cylinder, crudely displayed as her knees and ankles were forced wide apart by the footsteps and thigh supports to which her leg were firmly attached by straps pulled tight by neat white electric winching machines .

Straps like car seat belt material secured her torso above and below her breasts and a curious leather bra seemed to force her breasts into unnatural uplifted cones allowing the nipples to protrude, showing off the crude nipple clamps and chain.

Her hands and arms were similarly secured to arm rests like those of a dentists chair bu more winching machines and a key pad extended from the arm rest so she could operate the equipment with the fingers of her right hand.

I saw her cell phone handset secured to the left arm rest and the wires leading to her headset and then as I took in the scene she spoke.

“Oh” she said, as if my appearance was unexpected.

I realised she was completely naked, it did not register until she spoke. it was like seeing a page from a book or web-site, but suddenly it was real.

I don’t know about you but where I come from, people are usually at least partially clothed on initial acquaintance.

The Deprivator glistened dully, it’s extension flange and clit guard curving up over her belly while the applicator and its adaptor lurked deep inside her held to her Vaginal walls by the unseen cruel rivets and forced deep inside her by the gleaming steel penetrator shaft.

“Elsie?, you asked me to come.”

“Thanks, can you take my nipple clamps off please they are killing me.”

I walked across and reached out among the pipes and wires to release her, it seemed strange to touch her nipples without even shaking hands or kissing. she glistened with recent sweat and her long blonde hair hung damply as testimony to her earlier passion.

The clamps looked like something from a cheap car battery charger with a silver plated chain between stretched between them, the loose end of the chain caught in some wiring and as I reached down to release it I noticed the sheer complexity of the wiring.

Wires ran to the electric winching machines located behind her back for her torso, and at her wrists, fore arms, Knees and ankles and the slack unused ones at her feet, it was so simple, the motor in its neat white plastic housing pulled a strap like car seat belt to hold her firmly or release her at will, operated from the controls at her fingertips except the control module was now dead, standing lifeless and useless leaving her trapped and helpless.

“Oh it hurts,” blood was flowing back into her nipples, her little face creased with pain.

“What happened.” I asked rather superfluously.

“It just stopped,” she admitted.

“So you have an Anal penetrator up your…”

“Bum, yes, but the Deprivator, I measured it like the instructions, I used the same size as the biggest fucking head I could take, I ran it for fifteen minutes, are you listening.”

“Yes” I said, “Fifteen fucks”

“Don’t look at me like that.” she ordered.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to, you know,”

“I’ll go then” I suggested

“No please, just promise you won’t.”

“I can’t promise that, I’d better go.” I suggested, “I’ll phone an Ambulance.”

“No, okay, you win do what you want but please get me out of here.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, Everything, please.” she seemed strangely excited at the thought of giving herself to me, perhaps I it was my imagination.

“I’ll hold you to that, so it was fucking your ass and,”

“I decided to pop the Deprivator in, so I could never have sex again, it seemed so exciting.”

“Elsie, I don’t think that was a serious feature of the machine,”

“What”

“I think the fuse is supposed to blow.”

“Oh”

I saw some doubt in her sweet blue eyes.

“It blew and I put a new fuse in,” she admitted.

“One point five amp?” I asked.

“Oh I thought it said Fifteen, I put a Thirteen in.”

“That’s why the main fuse went then, it should have a thermal cut out or a timed reset to avoid these problems.”

“You’ve lost me,” she admitted .

“Thats why I put the bit in your thread, I read the specs and realised the Deprivator was not serious but could seriously maim someone, but why Elsie, you are beautiful, gorgeous , sexy, what on earth did you want to give up sex for.”

Tears were pouring down her cheeks.

“I’m never going to bet fucked properly again, ever, am I.” she admitted.

“Oh I don’t know, I’ll have to try to get you out of there.” I tried to reassure her. “And if I can’t the Hospital people will know what to do.”

She shuddered at the thought.

I released the anal penetrator shaft from the hydraulic ram by pulling out the spring loaded clevis pin, She squealed when I tried to ease it out of her so I compromised leaving it in place but loose.

The Deprivator was more complicated, I manoevered myself between the wires and pipes to kneel between her knees, and checked out the Vaginal ram which held it firm against the machines frame.

“Can you see anything” she asked.

I could see everything

“The handbook is on the floor” she continued.

I picked it up, loose pages downloaded from the internet in a ring binder. I flicked through the pages.

I rose up to look over her crotch, between those strangely distorted breasts and down to her worried blue eyes and furrowed brow.

“The vaginal penetrator its worked from a crankshaft driven by a hydraulic motor”, I said cheerily “The vernier adjustment giving travel of between one quarter inch and eight inches, variable by one eighth inch increments depending on the setting of the eccentric crankpin.”

“What?”

“Thats what the hand-book said.” I told her.

“Then shut up and get on with it.”

“”There is nothing about the Deprivator.”

“No it’s from a different supplier, he was going to send instructions, but never did.”

I tried to work out how the Deprivator mechanism worked, With the standard penetrator, used in simple fucking machine mode, a twist motion adaptor could be used for extra stimulus as the drive rod could not turn relative to the drive unit and the Deprivator applicator fitted on this same spline and used the twist motion electrical feed to turn the applicator so as to ram the securing rivets home. At least that’s what it looked like.

I rose to tell her and as I peered anxiously between her legs, I saw tiny pimples appear on her perfect thighs. real Goosebumps.

“Have you always had a beard.” she asked.

“Uh, yes, well no, not when I was born, just shut up and let me concentrate.”

“Sorry.” she lay back and stared at the ceiling.

I think something has broken or distorted, it seems to have pushed the rivets out but not pulled the pins to squash the soft rivet heads, so if I can turn it back I can probably get them out.”

“It means nothing to me.” she admitted.

“Well you assembled it,” I reminded her.

She went quiet again.

I started to undo the penetrator shaft fittings, accompanied at every movement by her moans, “Ooh that tickles.” or “No it hurts” as I slackened the lock nut and carefully eased it anticlockwise.

I had to slacken the lower joint to take the upward or was it inward pressure off her but then the weight of the Deprivator adaptor and shaft all tore at the rivets jammed cruelly into he vaginal lining,

She sobbed despite biting her lip as she bravely tried to retain composure.

I had to do it incrementally, six turns of the shaft, equalling a quarter inch then move the lower shaft back a quarter inch then move the head another six turns then release the shaft again.

Finally the shaft was loose I lowered it carefully onto the mainframe but the deprivator and the heavy applicator now hung by the rivets alone, she screamed, A full blown scream, I spotted some rag on the floor and grabbed it forcing it into her mouth as I tried to support the awkward Deprivator with my knee.

Blood oozed around its lower edges, “There is a gap, Its not tight against your clit,” I told her, he extension piece fitted to the hardened Aluminum tube was supposed to cover the clit to stop the wearer arousing herself, while the inner bore of the Deprivator tube was sufficient to take most penises so most men could still fuck the wearer, if fucking a metal tube was their idea of fun.

“You have to be calm, It will hurt again, I have to twist the applicator against the Deprivator to release it,” I said as I took the weight of the device in my hands once again.

“Please be careful.”

I promised to to my best, “On my mark, Three two one,” I whispered and as I twisted so the agony coursed through her.

Even the mouthful of rag barely diminished her scream and she coughed it out as I twisted, and I realised it was a bra and panties, and something else, a skimpy nightdress possibly.

Slowly the inner applicator revolved releasing the tension on the rivets and I had to ease it back and feel for the grooves where it could slide back clear of the rivet heads.

I eased it anticlockwise then clockwise a tiny bit feeling for the groove trying to minimise the pain, listening for her tiny cries and watching as she tensed and her brow furrowed until finally it came free and Elsie was at last relieved of the weight of the applicator, just the sleeve with its projecting Clit protector remained to keep her Vagina spread obscenely wide.

“Oh thank god” she wailed, “Oh that’s much better.” Now only the lightweight aluminiuum tube spread her vagina obscenely wide as I carefully placed the heavy applicator and it adaptor on the floor.

I stared carefully and thoughtfully down the tube and into her entrails, using my small polished mechanics mirror for a closer look.

“Oh Fuck, I think we are going to have to go to casualty.” I exclaimed

“No,” she screamed,

“The rivets were not lined up with the holes, its punched new jagged holes.”

“What can they do that you can’t” she asked.

I thought, “They have a sterile environment,”

“No please.”

It was very awkward, obviously my hand would not fit down the vaginal sleeve but I pulled the rivets out with very long nosed pliers and then set too work with a tiny mirror and my little hobby drill set a right angle drive and some rotary burrs.

I eventually ground away the metal enough to separate the jagged spikes left by the rivets, and as dawn broke I finally slid the bloodstained tube from her.

It was funny watching her vagina slowly close, I had never watched one before, all bloodied and sore, and not remotely sexy.

I put the fuse from the twist mechanism in place of the blown one in the main fuse panel, and after re connecting the anal shafting I manipulated the anal penetrator to give some gentle strokes to prepare her for withdrawal, “What are you doing,” she wailed trying to remember which switch was which but I unclipped the panel to stop her interfering as I gently set the machine to fuck her ass, I reasoned as the bulbous head was much larger than the shaft which slid in the neophrene sleeve clamped in her spinchter then she would need some preparation.

She made some strange noises and then wailed noisily as I set the hydraulics to the retrieve position and first the cream neophrene sleeve then the dark bulbous head appeared.

The penetrator clunked to the floor leaving a brown trail, after a few false starts I found the switches to reverse the motors holding the straps which secured her to the equipment.

She was too stiff to move and I found myself trying to lift her from the chair past the control module and clear of the mass of wiring and tubes.

The strange Leather bra still held her and I lost patience and cut it off her with a craft knife from my bag.

Finally I lifted her clear, she was surprisingly light, and taller than I thought.

“You should go to casualty, you are bleeding inside and there is aluminium swarf up there.”

“No it will be OK, its just too embarrassing it will come out by itself and I’m in no hurry to be fucked again” she paused, “Or do you want to, you do, you want to fuck me don’t you, just fuck me like a piece of meat.”

“I don’t fuck pieces of meat generally. but you must get this aluminium sorted out.”

“You do it, In the bathroom wash me out properly, I have an enema kit you can use to wash me out.”

I went to put her on her feet. “No carry me,” she ordered.

So I carried her down the corridor to the door marked bathroom and on her designer world of black marble effect surfaces, black bath and WC and dazzling white towels.

I sat her on the loo seat and rigged up the small bore tubing and began to clean her, We ended up with her across the bath one knee each side and I got quite wet so I hung my shirt and trousers on a radiator to dry and finally after several minutes work I could not see any more flecks of silver inside her.

My Phone rang, I tried to grab it but by the time I retrieved it from my trouser pocket it was too late. I rang the number, It was my fare “Oh my planes’ cancelled, I can get the next one at six so I’ll take the bus, no need to pick me up now.”

“What is it,” Elsie asked.

“My Job for today cancelled.”

“Just as well being as you had no sleep,”

The little hose was still running in the bath, she picked it up and carefully aimed it at my Boxer shorts.

“You had better dry them.” she suggested, as she rose from the bath to stand on the luxurious deep pile of the big black bathroom carpet.

I looked her over, she looked thirty, older than I liked, smaller tits than I liked, I like brunettes and green eyes not blue eyed blondes, I did not fancy her at all, yet when I hung my Boxers up it seemed the most natural thing in the world when she pulled me down onto her and guided my throbbing penis within her.

I did not even know her surname, but she was warm and very willing, or was it grateful, or did she just need reassurance that no permanent harm had been done but it was her idea, and I guess not bad payment for several hours hard work

I guess we were both tired, exhausted even and after a few pleasant minutes I did a rather ungentlemanly thing and came inside her, rolled over and went to sleep.

I woke much later, her dainty little hands were washing my erect penis with a flannel.

“Some flecks of metal, ” she explained.

“I ought to go.”

“Yes.” she agreed, “Put the key under the flower pot.”

“Why?”

“For the next time.”

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