First Trip Back
Author's note: I write stories with a bondage slant, not bondage scenes spliced together with a little bit of story. If you want nothing but descriptions of sex with whips and chains, then I am not the author for you.
I got started in my writing hobby by doing sequels to stories by other authors. I never planned any of those sequels. Now it has happened again. When I finished "First Trip to the Conservatory", my imagination just kept on going. This became the first time that I have done an unplanned sequel to a story of my own. This story is definitely a sequel. Be sure to read "First Trip to the Conservatory" first in order to understand what is going on.
As things worked out, I never dated Mickl. He had a regular gig in Port Paulentz on Friday and Saturday nights, playing fiddle in a square dance hall to earn money toward his school expenses, so he was never available on the usual date nights. His estimate on how the upperclassmen would react to me turned out to be correct; I was asked out on most weekend nights, and I had dates with at least a dozen older boys. I was taken to concerts, and baseball games, and variety shows, and stage plays, and I was treated to some very nice meals. But no sparks were ever struck between me and any of those upperclassmen. I never dated any of them more than twice.
Mickl remained the one guy who was a regular part of my life. Our class schedules worked out that we had 90-minute breaks at the same time for lunch every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and our first classes on Saturday didn't start until well after breakfast. We usually ate together. We discussed music, of course, and the peculiarities of music professors, and things I had done with my dates, and things he had seen or done in Port Paulentz. None of my dates seemed to be quite complete until I told Mickl about them. He always seemed to be interested, and he never showed any signs of jealousy.
I didn't realize what Mickl had come to mean to me until he got a marvelous break. One of the biggest patrons of the Carnegie Conservatory is the King of Paulentz. The Conservatory sends student groups to perform before His Majesty from time to time. These groups are usually made up of upperclassmen, but not always. A fourth-year violin player got sick on the Sunday night before a student orchestra left to play during Royal Birthday Week in late November. Mickl knew the music, so the professor in charge picked him as the emergency replacement. He was away from the Conservatory for that entire week, including the next weekend. I really, really missed having those meals with him.
Of course I didn't want anybody else escorting me for my trip home during Christmas break. I asked him to make the travel arrangements. I told him to be sure not to forget to pack his chain handcuffs. I even suggested that he might want to buy a leash and collar. I hoped that he would take that as a hint about my feelings for him.
But he didn't. He picked a route that swung to the south, through Tippin, completely avoiding the Nation of Bohringen. Restraints for girls should not have been needed on the route that he chose.
It was a fouled-up journey, but it was one of the best things that has ever happened to me. We had to change trains twice. Our first train ran late, so we missed our intended connection. We had to take a later train on the second lap of our journey, which meant that we had only ten minutes to connect in Hauptington. We had to buy tickets for our last train there; we were still in line at the ticket window in Hauptington Central Station when the last train for Piyeburg left. We were stranded in Hauptington for the night.
Fortunately Mickl had some extra money. The King of Paulentz had given one hundred dekas in cash to each of the student orchestra members who played for his Royal Birthday Week. Mickl went to the information counter at the train station and found a brochure for the Downtown Travellers Rest Hotel. It was only a three-block hike away.
The clerk at the Travellers Rest took one look at us and knew at once that we were students, traveling on student budgets. He looked me up, he looked me down, and he grinned at Mickl. He said, "We're pretty well sold out tonight. But I do have one room still available that the two of you might be able to use. Cost you only fifty tipponals, special rate. It's an owner-and-slave room, where it is easy to keep a slave chained up. But is she willing to be your slave for a night? I'm not allowed to book the room to two unrelated people. If your girl is willing to wear a collar and leash, I would have the excuse I need to let you have that room. I could even sell you the collar and leash. Only twelve tipponals."
Yeah, sure. I saw through this line right away. He was a guy, and he wanted to help another guy have his way with a pretty girl who would no doubt be reluctant. There was only one thing wrong with his scheme. I wasn't reluctant.
I turned away from Mickl, put my hands behind my back, and said "You did bring the chain cuffs, didn't you?"
He had stuffed those cuffs into a side pocket of his suitcase when he released me four months earlier on our way to Deerak. They were still there. He pulled them out and snapped them back onto my wrists. He leashed me and told the clerk "I'll take the room." Fifty tipponals is only forty deka, so we got the room for a very good price.
Have you ever felt like a fisherman who has hooked a very big fish on the end of a very light fishing line? The fisherman has to handle his line very gently, keeping a constant low tension. If the fish pulls away, he must let the line run out. He must never let the fish throw the hook, but he must never pull too hard or the line will be broken.
That somehow describes my relationship with Jaine during her first semester at Carnegie. I had lunch with her three times a week, and breakfast on Saturday mornings, to keep a constant low tension. I never tried to seduce her into my room or do anything else that could pull the line too hard and make her decide to break away. When she dated other guys, I let the fishing line run out. I knew that I didn't have to be jealous. She told me about her dates afterwards, and it was apparent that nobody else had managed to get a hook into her. But I was confused about one point: I needed those lunches with her for the sake of my own happiness. Was I the fisherman, or the fish?
She asked me to make the travel plans for our Christmas-break trip back to Trekinnen. She reminded me to bring my cuffs, and she suggested that I should buy a collar and leash. Did she know that there were other ways to go from Deerak to Piyeburg besides traveling through Bohringen? Did she prefer to be collared and leashed instead of cuffed, so that she would have the use of her hands? I wasn't sure. I picked a route that went around Bohringen to the south. It was slower, and more expensive, and we had to change trains twice, but I thought that Jaine could stay free for the entire journey. Still, just in case, I did buy a box of condoms and a very pretty locking leather collar and leash before we left Deerak. I carefully did not tell Jaine about those purchases.
Then our first train ran late, which fouled up our connections, and we got stranded in Hauptington for the night. Luckily, we found a hotel with reasonable rates. The hotel clerk offered us an owner-and-slave room for only fifty tipponals, if Jaine were willing to wear a collar and leash.
Jaine promptly put her hands behind her back for cuffing. So I cuffed her, produced my new collar and leash, and locked the collar around Jaine's neck. Then I paid in advance for the room and led her upstairs to the room on the end of my leash.
Jaine looked fabulous. She was wearing her white hair band and her red dress, dark pink or light maroon with polished silver-colored buttons, the same headband and dress that she had worn on our journey through Bohringen four months earlier. The leather collar on her neck was pink, about two and a half centimeters wide, studded with stainless-steel ornaments and fake glass rubies. The leash was made of gleaming chrome-finished steel twist links, hanging most of the way down to her feet. It all looked as if it had all been designed as a single coordinated outfit.
I locked the door of the hotel room. I turned to Jaine, and put my arms around her, and we kissed for the first time. It became an intense, passionate, open-mouth kiss. We finally came up for air, and Jaine said "I have waited a long time for that to happen."
We kissed again, even more passionately. I started to give her a little speech. "Jaine, I have fallen in love with you." I interrupted myself for another gentle kiss. "I would never do anything to harm you." Yet another kiss. "Now you have given yourself freely to me, wearing my chains, in a master-and-slave hotel room." Still another kiss. "I have to be the happiest guy on the face of this planet. These rooms are usually set up for bondage sex. Let's see how this one is fitted."
I looked around. There was a short entrance corridor. On the right as we walked in were a closet and a chest of drawers. The closet door and all of the drawers could be locked using the hotel-room key so that a slave could be denied access to their contents.
On the left of the entrance corridor was a door to the bathroom. Where the corridor ended, the room stretched out to the left. When you turned left, you faced a wall that had horizontal bars running along it at several heights from floor to ceiling. The bars ran all the way into the bathroom, through a second door which was located alongside the wall. Holes were drilled through the bars at frequent intervals.
A king-size bed was in the far corner, against the wall with the bars. There were several attachment points on the headboard and footboard, and some sort of interesting mechanism against the headboard and along the far side.
A window looked out through the part of the far wall not occupied by the bed.
A hand-crank winch was bolted to the wall on the right side of the room opposite the footboard of the bed. A chain ran from the winch up to pulleys on the relatively high ceiling; one pulley was immediately above the winch, and another was in the center of the room.
If I had had a suitcase full of chains, straps, and locks, I could have confined Jaine with any desired degree of closeness or freedom. A lock around one of the horizontal wall bars could slide back and forth and allow her access to most of the room, or else limit her access to one side of the room if the chain attached to that lock were a bit shorter. A lock through one of the holes in a bar could act as a stop to limit the motion of a sliding lock, or it could act as a fixed anchor point for chains. Locks through several of the holes could secure her in a spread-eagle or in any other position I chose. If I preferred rope, I could have tied her to those bars.
However, I had only my chain handcuffs and my locking leash. What could I do with them?
The handle loop of the leash could be opened by using the key that also fit the locking collar. I attached the handle to the winch chain that was dangling from the ceiling in the middle of the room, and I cranked the winch until Jaine was confined standing in a small spot in order to avoid choking on the collar. And then I began to undress her.
I did not take the cuffs off of her wrists until I had her nude to the waist and had kissed her bare breasts for the first time. After that kiss one quick peel-and-push put her clothing in a heap around her legs, out of reach of her just-released hands. I let her watch me hang her dress in the closet. I put her suitcase in the closet also, and then I locked that closet with my hotel-room key. She would stay naked until I chose otherwise. I smiled at her. Her first reaction was to cover her breasts and crotch with her hands, but then she smiled at me and clasped her hands behind her back, giving me a wonderful gift, her beautiful body to view as I pleased. That view took my breath away.
I left her standing there while I used the bathroom and got ready for bed. Then I transferred the locking leash handle to a horizontal wall bar about shoulder-high on Jaine. I ordered her to slide that handle along the bar and use the bathroom facilities.
While she was busy in the bathroom, I studied the bed. That mechanism at the headboard and along the far side had caught my eye. I wanted to learn what it was supposed to do and how to use it.
It turned out that the bed had a set of metal-strap stocks.
When I came back out of the bathroom, Mickl said "I've got it figured out. Come on over."
Mickl released my leash from the wall bar and put me onto the bed. I had always assumed that someday a guy would seduce me into bed, giving me lots of sweet talk about how pretty I was and how much he loved me. Mickl had started out that way when we first entered the hotel room, and he had given me my first real kiss. But when the time came to put me into bed, he spoke instead about how the mechanism of a set of stocks worked. I didn't think that that was very romantic.
As he handled me, he said "This release knob allows me to slide the whole system up and down this rod along your side of the bed. It's solidly braced to that side rod; I could use the stocks together with the winch on the opposite wall to make a rack and immobilize you completely. I don't think that I will do that.
"Your neck goes into this big slot here," and he pulled me into position. "Your wrists go into these two smaller slots", and he climbed on me and pinned my arms into place. "It closes by gravity", and he pushed a release button. With a klack! the top of the stocks slammed shut and locked down, trapping me.
The top of the stocks was a slim aluminum bar. It didn't get in the way when Mickl wanted to give me a quick kiss. After the kiss he was on top of me, and then he was in me, and then he was bouncing.
He said "Ahhhh!" and gave me another quick kiss. Then he rolled off of me, and covered us with a couple of blankets, and curled up on his own side of the bed facing away from me, and went to sleep. The stocks were only on my side of the bed. He could curl up without being bothered by metal bars.
I lay there thinking Is that all there is?
I had never tried to go to sleep while locked in neck-and-wrist stocks before, and I was sure I was in for a restless night. Fortunately the bottom of those stocks was tied together by another slim aluminum bar. My head and my arms could rest comfortably on the mattress instead of being supported in mid-air. I was tired enough that I did get some sleep eventually.
I was awakened the next morning by a head resting on my right arm, and Mickl's right arm resting across my tummy, and his hand on my left breast, and a couple of his fingers playing with my left nipple. At that point I realized that he was as new to this whole experience as I was. He had been a weirdo in high school, and had learned to be very shy around girls. I would have to teach him how to give me pleasure. That wouldn't be easy; a lecture would have been completely out of place. Besides I was very far from knowing all of the answers myself.
So I began with short sighs and gasps when he did something that made me feel good. He tried to get more sighs and gasps, and his hands kept finding and rubbing all of my most sensitive places. Eventually I used words, like "Yes . . . yess . . . more . . . . don't stop . . . . don't stop don'tstopdon'tstopOHMYGOD!!" The strength of that first orgasm caught us both by surprise.
He let me rest for a few minutes after that. Then he began to explore my body looking for ticklish places. My underarms are very ticklish. I couldn't do anything to protect them while I was locked in those stocks. He soon had me laughing completely out of control.
He gave me another short rest before putting a condom on and going back to massaging and caressing. He climbed back onto me and into me. He came first, but kept on hammering until I came also. After that I was sure that what had happened on the previous night wasn't all there is. I was very happy that Mickl was able to learn so quickly.
And that is how we became a couple.
We have been together ever since. Until we graduated, we took all of our later trips between Piyeburg and Deerak on the direct train through Bohringen. I wore handcuffs through Bohringen every time. Mickl's scholarship did not include a room, and mine did, so he moved in with me.
He graduated magna cum laude. He used his shiny new Carnegie Conservatory degree to land a really good job as associate concertmaster and assistant conductor of the Cindimund Municipal Orchestra. I mentioned Cindimund once before in this story; it's one of the towns that we went through during our trips through Bohringen. Mickl's violin playing won the respect of the members of the string section of that orchestra. He has been teaching them how to improve the ensemble sound. He is also on the staff of Cindimund High School, leading the band and teaching music theory.
I married him when I graduated. I never dreamed that I would be living in Bohringen, but of course I joined him there. I found that I don't mind being restrained as long as he has the keys. My parents gave us a set of custom leather harnesses, made to my exact measure, as a wedding present. I mentioned already that my father is a harnessmaker mainly for horses. He knows how to do girl harnesses as well.
I am the third flute in the Cindimund Municipal Orchestra, when they need a third flute. I sing vocal solos with the orchestra when they need a soprano. I direct the sopranos and altos during rehearsals of the Cindimund Orchestra Chorus. And I play roles in musicals and operettas when the Cindimund Theater Society stages them.
I can't always wear restraints on stage in Theater Society productions. I often play the part of a free woman in shows which have settings outside of Bohringen. I know that there are theaters and music halls in many parts of the world where men spend good money to see girls on stage with no clothes on. In Cindimund, some men spend good money just to see me on stage with no chains on. There is no accounting for taste.
I can give those men a pretty good show in any case. I've got an exercise program that keeps me in great shape. It lasts for four hours a morning, five mornings a week. It's better than any gymnasium, because I don't have to pay anything. Instead a salary is paid to my husband for my work. And I get to play musical solos.
At the Cindimund Junction Railroad Station. On the cowbells.
Dohnk - dohnk - dink - dink - dohnk - dink - dohnk - dink -
dohnk - sching - dohnk - sching - dohnk - sching . . .
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