Binding contracts (closed for LizInTrouble and momadness)

[LizInTrouble]

Deborah Lawrence took one last check around the top floor of the office building, walking down the corridor, trying doors, looking for lights. All of the other offices apart from her own were in darkness - no-one was working late, or at least, not as late as her - it was, after all, now 9pm, and even the most dedicated or deadline-maddened office drones had finally gone home. She had seen the last one leave an hour ago, giving her a wave, no doubt mentally tutting about presenteeism - but was it presenteeism if no-one saw you working so late? Even so, she liked to leave things at least an hour after the last of her co-workers had left, just in case someone had forgotten something and come back to pick it up. As much as she loved risk, the potential consequences of what she was doing were so serious that it paid to be as careful as she possibly could be.

Satisfied, she headed back to her corner office and closed the door. She took a deep breath; she was tingling with excitement at what she was about to do. Because Deborah Lawrence was not just - at 35 - the youngest vice president at the company. She was not just a ruthless, in control high flyer who was steadily working her way up the corporate ladder. She also had a deep, dark secret that she could admit to no-one. She loved tying herself up, in the most painful, restrictive and humiliating ways. She loved struggling futilely against bonds, working herself up into orgasm after earth-shattering orgasm. Years ago she had tried this with a boyfriend, but things had not gone as she had hoped, and he had blabbed about her secret addiction to another friend, and she had been utterly mortified. She had not spoken to any of those people since. Since then she had learned to be careful with her secret, always in private, never trusting anyone else with it.

Usually it had been in the privacy of her own home, but in order to add spice to her self-bondage sessions, Deborah had begun finding ways to make it slightly more risky for herself, tormenting herself with the knowledge that someone might find her. That gave her the biggest orgasms of all. And now that appetite for controlled risk; the thing that made her a good fund manager, had led her to start having sessions at work. Not often - just every couple of months - and always planned meticulously, but every now and again she would feel the need, and there was only one way to exorcise that particular demon.

She closed the window blinds, and made sure that no-one watching from outside could see her. There were only a couple of office blocks that overlooked her 12th floor office, but even so, a telephoto lens, a post to twitter, and that would be that. Then she went over to the big blue filing cabinet in the corner of the room - a relic from a previous occupant, and who filed paperwork these days? But she had kept it because it locked and the bottom two drawers had gradually become a treasure trove of bondage gear, toys and fetish clothing. Frankly it was easier to get stuff delivered to the office than home anyway, and
couriers never knew what they were carrying.

Taking a deep breath, she started preparing herself. She shed all of her office clothes and placed them neatly on her desk, standing naked in the air-conditioned cool. At 5'6" without the high heels she always wore, Deborah had a curvaceous figure, an eye-catching 36DD-24-35. She took a bottle of lubricant and worked it into her fingers, then began slowly and lovingly greasing her pussy and anus, enjoying the sensation of her slippery fingers sliding in and out of herself. She likewise lubed the twin vibrators, switched them on, and slid them slowly and carefully inside herself. Then, as quickly as she could, she buckled the chastity belt into place that would hold them inside her. The penetration and insistent buzzing was already starting to get her aroused, and Deborah knew that she had to work quickly now. She put the large purple ball gag into her mouth and buckled it behind her neck, enjoying the way her lips spread around it and she began to drool. Then she took a roll of silver gaffa tape and wound it around and around her mouth and neck, securing the gag firmly in place. On top of that she fastened a leather muzzle, the straps pulling around her head and crossing behind, with two more straps that went under her chin and around her neck. On top of the muzzle harness there was a d-ring, and she fixed a short piece of chain to that.

Next came the ballet boots - 8" pointed heels and knee-high boots in shiny black patent leather that took ages to lace up. The distraction from the vibrators was making Deborah moan into her gag now, and the pressure on her jaw was just starting to make itself uncomfortable. She added ankle cuffs to the boots and fastened them together, giving her ankles only an inch or so of free movement, and buckled leather belts around her knees and thighs to make sure that her legs were firmly strapped together. Then, bracing herself against the desk, she pulled herself to her feet, wobbling unsteadily on the tips of the boots. She made sure that the handcuff keys were on the third shelf of the bookshelf, within easy reach, picked up the handcuffs with one hand, and clicked them around one wrist. Then, balancing herself with one hand, with the other she grabbed hold of the chain from the head harness and slipped its top link over the hook mounted in the concrete beam in the ceiling above her. It was this concrete beam and the sturdy hook that had given Deborah the idea for this particular bondage - originally it had held a large plasma TV screen, and she knew it was rated to hold 120 lbs. Deborah weighed only 5 lb more than that, so she knew it should hold her weight securely.

With the chain fastened to the ceiling hook, Deborah was now dangling from the ceiling, balancing on her pointed toed ballet boots, with only her arms free. She took care of that by moving her arms behind her back and feeling for the dangling handcuffs with her free hand, slipping the cuff around her wrist and letting it click into place. She was now completely immobilised - balanced agonisingly on her toes, hands cuffed behind her, securely gagged, and with the insistent buzzing of the twin vibrators inside her. Deborah moaned at the wonderful feeling of confinement, at the familiar office surroundings. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a darkened window and could only imagine how this would look to someone walking in on her. In her mind, she played out scenarios - who might find her, what they might do to her, and as she did so, her arousal built and built until she finally came, shuddering in her bondage.

She moaned into the gag and more drool slid from her mouth, under the tape and muzzle and ran stickily down her chin and neck, and across her heaving breasts. Her eyes closed and she abandoned herself to the sensations - the pleasure and pain combined. She allowed herself another orgasm before she felt the pain in her feet and the strain in her thigh muscles starting to tell her that it might be time to finish this for the night. It was 10:15pm according to the office clock.

Sighing, she twisted herself round and hopped to be next to the bookcase. She felt with her fingers for the third shelf, and the key that she knew was there. She took it between two fingers slowly, carefully... and pulled it free from the shelf. She transferred it from one hand to the other, taking it between her thumb and forefingers, and twisted her hand so that she could reach the lock on the bottom of the handcuffs. Strangely, however, she couldn't find the keyhole. The key skittered around the solid metal of the cuffs, not finding it. Forcing herself not to panic, Deborah carefully placed the key back on the shelf and felt around the cuffs with her fingers, probing it carefully. it was only at that point that she made the horrifying discovery that in her lust-filled haste she had not made sure that the handcuffs were the right way around. They were a pair of solid cuffs, with no chain between them, and the lock was always supposed to be on the bottom so that she could unlock it. But they were upside down - the lock was on the top, and there was no way that she could twist her fingers to get the key into the lock. Debbie stiffened at the knowledge, making little "mmmff! Mfffff!" sounds of panic, before forcing herself to calm down again. No, she would be okay. It would be difficult, but she was sure that she could get the key to the top of the cuffs. She shook her wrists so that the cuffs slipped as far down her hands as she could make them go, took up the key again, and started trying to reach around. Her hands felt cramp at the awkward position, but the key was reaching... reaching... then she felt it slip from her fingers and hear the little thud of it falling to the carpet.

"Nnnnnnrrrrrrggg!" Deborah exclaimed. She sagged, her harness taking her weight and feeling the constriction as the straps around her neck took some of that weight. She began to really panic now. She could suffocate herself like this. Her only hope now was to break the hook that held her to the ceiling, so that she could pick the key up off the floor. However, a few experimental bunny hops soon taught her what she had previously reassured herself of many times by pulling hard on it - it could easily handle her weight.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she realised the extent of her predicament. She was going to be trapped her until someone found her...

 

[LizInTrouble]

The night was endless, the longest of Deborah's life. Before very long her thighs were screaming with the effort of holding her up. Her jaw began to ache from being forced open by the ball gag, and drool continued to dribbled down her chin and neck, across her breasts. The vibrators buzzed insistently, and in spite of her situation, the stimulation they were providing began driving her towards another climax. Deborah moaned and her hands twisted in her metal bonds.

The minutes ticked by, stretching into hours. Soon Deborah was screaming alternately from waves of cramp that gripped her legs, and waves of orgasm that crashed over her as the vibrators brought her to another peak. Soon she could feel her slick juices filling the leather panties and dribbling through the leg holes, down her thighs. The room began to smell of sex. She sobbed, self-pityingly, shaking with emotion, tears running down her cheeks, leaving long black streaks of mascara. A sheen of sweat broke out on her body, and cooled and evapourated, over and over again. She drifted in a haze, somewhere between pain, pleasure and sleep, occasionally jerked back to life by herself slipping and being brought up with a jerk by the harness, forcing herself to stand again, her legs protesting, her toes by now completely numb. She began to imagine that she would be like this forever, that she would die and be found here. She cursed her foolishness, her recklessness, her lust that had driven her to this. She had no religion particularly, but found herself mumbling a prayer around the gag. But nothing happened, she was still there, dangling, helpless.

The light going on in the room next door and the sound of someone moving around was both a moment of incredible relief and stark horror. She was going to be found - it would mean release at last from this torment, but it would also mean that her perversion would be laid bare. She felt sick at the thought. The sound of Oliver's voice was almost a relief. Of course it would be him in the office first - that was how she had trained him. At least she had some control over Oliver. Maybe she could buy his silence - threaten him with redundancy if he breathed a word...

Deborah sighed as he entered the office, trying to twist herself so that he didn't see her breasts. She felt wretched, but all she wanted now was to get out of this situation. She looked pleadingly at him as he walked around her. But then he uttered the words that confirmed that he realised what she had done to herself. Deborah closed her eyes, her cheeks burning with shame. She heard him bend and pick up the key, but he didn't open the handcuffs. Instead he said:

"You... got caught in your own game and now..."

Deborah looked at him miserably, red-eyed. She was defeated - there was nowhere left for her to sink. "Lllleeeaaasssss," she begged him. "Hrrrrpp mmeee. Llleeeaasssse!"

 

[LizInTrouble]

Deborah could only watch, miserable, as Oliver locked the door and went around her. The little click of the phone's camera shutter sounded over and over again. The little bastard was filming her! Deborah wailed in impotent frustration as her perversion was documented repeatedly. It was immediately clear which direction Oliver intended this to go in.

Finally, however, was finished, and unhooked her from the ceiling. She collapsed into his arms, letting out a long, anguished cry into the gag as the strain on her aching muscles was finally released. She lay there on the couch in a haze of pain and endorphins, feeling the agonising tingling of her poor thighs and calves as they were finally allowed to relax.

As the pain started to recede, however, so the pleasure from the vibrators started to build again. With horror Deborah realised that she was going to orgasm right in front of Oliver. She tried to fight it, started squirming and moaning, but as he began to realise what was happening and put his hand at her crotch, pushing the vibrator just that extra half inch inside her, her eyes rolled upwards and suddenly she was coming, her hips bucking and trying to hump his hand with total abandon, more come squirting from her abused and overheated pussy to trickle onto the cushions of the sofa.

When she came round again, she could barely make out what he was saying. Something about negotiation. She nodded, helplessly. She didn't care, didn't care any more - she just wanted this to stop. Finally, thankfully, he was unbuckling the straps of the harness and pulling it from her. He had to cut the duct tape to get it off her, and she gurgled around the gag as the tape pulled painfully free of her cheeks and neck. Finally he unfastened the gag and it fell from her mouth. Her face was a mess - lipstick smeared, mascara dried in black streaks down her cheeks, her mouth, nose and chin were nothing but a mess of drool, and more saliva slid from her open lips as she worked her jaw, so painful now from having been forced open by the large ball gag for several hours. The leather straps had even abraded her lips slightly at the cornerns of her mouth, leaving tiny cuts from which little droplets of blood swelled.

Deborah looked up at Oliver, dazed. Her big brown eyes were pleading, more tears trickloing from their corners.

"Thank you," she managed to whisper weakly, though it was clear talking was painful for her at the moment. "Please, Oliver, just let me go, before anyone else gets into the office, and let's say no more about this. It will be our secret. If you help me, I'll make it up to you, I swear. Just get me out of these cuffs. Please." She was a changed woman from the boardroom bitch that Oliver was familiar with, desperate and vulnerable.

 

[LizInTrouble]

"You will speak... when I tell you to. Open your mouth."

Deborah's eyes flashed at him, but she knew that until he unlocked her hands she was completely at his mercy, and after a few seconds she obediently opened her mouth. She was surprised when he put two fingers in - how dare he touch her like that!

"I had better not feel a single tooth touch my fingers. If you do, I will hang up back up and walk out of here, see that I don't!"

Deborah groaned, but acceptingly let him keep his fingers there. As if she wasn't humiliated enough already, he had to rub it in.

"I know I am just a temp guy in this company. I have heard all the rumors and stories. I have heard that I am either the 27th or 32nd assistant you have had since you came on board here. You keep us around for a while, beat up on us, then fire us for some dumbass reason. That trend... stops. Today. No more running across fucking town to get your stupid drinks. You get your own damn drinks downstairs from now on. Nod if you understand."

Deborah let out a little "glurk!" of discomfort as he put a third finger into her mouth and pushed down. The invasion was intimate and embarrassing. He was starting to near the back of her throat, and she could feel herself starting to gag. Still, she forced her mouth to open wider, hoping that he was not serious about his threat to put her back up if he felt any teeth. He started to lay it all out for her - it was pretty much what she had expected - no more being her dogsbody. She gave a small nod. It was a small enough price to pay.

""Good. If you try to do anything to end my job here, I have those photos. You look like shit right now so in a few minutes, I am going to uncuff you and let you free. You are going to get out of this stuff your in, then you are going to dress and then decide to go home for the day. On your way out, you will leave your panties on my desk."

Deborah looked at him miserably, his fingers down her throat. A pair of panties so he could jerk off into them? Again, it was a small enough price to pay, and she nodded her agreement again, although she was starting to become surprised at Oliver - the worm seemed to have turned on a dime, and he was turning out to be far more of a deviant that she had suspected.

"You're mine now bitch. I am done being your little bitch. From now on, you're mine. You got me?"

Deborah closed her eyes, feeling wretched. No, surely not? She wasn't going to be his dogsbody? No, that wasn't going to happen. The embarrassment around the office would be almost as bad as being found out. But she knew that precious minutes were ticking by and he still had the key. She sighed around his fingers, but nodded again. Just release me already!

"Before you leave, you will set a standing appointment with me at 0500 each morning till 0800 when the rest of the team shows up. EVERY morning... do you understand?"

Deborah looked at him. Three hours? What was he planning to do? She had an idea that she already could guess from the way he was handling her. Was this worth it? Was becoming Oliver's sex slave worth keeping her job? Just get through it, she told herself. Promise him anything he wants so long as he lets you out of here. He only has one threat, maybe you can negotiate later. Again, she slowly nodded.

"I felt ... a tooth. It is time to go back up on the wall! I told you NOT to touch me with your teeth!"

He was reaching around her, dragging her up off the sofa. Deborah realised with a rush of panic that he genuinely meant it!

"No! No! Oliver, please! Please don't! Oliver! What do you want? I'll do anything. Anything! Just let me go!"

 

[LizInTrouble]

Deborah sniffled as Oliver wiped away her tears. An insurance policy - she understood that. It probably wouldn't be significantly worse for her than the photographs he already had, but still... it was another little notch of control. She looked miserably at the camera, then took a deep breath, and made her face more neutral, although it would still be obvious that she had been crying.

"My name is Deborah Lawrence. I am bound like this of my own free will. Because... because it excites me to tie myself into restrictive positions, and it also excites me to place myself in risky bondage situations where there is a chance I could be found. Last night that backfired on me. I stayed late and tied myself as you see me, and also gagged myself and fixed a harness to the hook in the roof. The buzzing sound you can hear are two vibrators which I fixed inside me by means of a leather strap in order to provide greater stimulation." She frowned and shook her head, not quite believing she was saying these things. "Then I placed the handcuffs on behind my back. However, I made a mistake while putting them on, and only discovered once they were closed that they were upside down. I couldn't get the key I had into the lock, and then I dropped it, and was unable to bend down to pick it up again. I was trapped like that all night. Oliver Landford found my like this at 5am this morning. It is only thanks to him that I am no longer tied to the ceiling, and I am making this statement to him in order to make it completely clear that he bears no responsibility whatsoever for any of this. It was all my doing, and I accept full responsibility for my own actions, and whatever consequences may flow from them."

She looked down, hoping that was enough. It seemed like it was, as he actually complimented her on it. She sighed.

"Now... second thing. Show me your true appreciation for coming to your rescue. Come on over here... put that mouth around my dick and drink what I give you to drink... then, on my honor, I will release you."

He moved the coffee table to one side and took out his cock. Deborah looked up at him. She had been expecting something like this, but she had assumed that he was going to ask for a blowjob, and she hadn't even been sure if she would do that. But... 'drink'? Did he mean what she thought he meant? Deborah recoiled in horror at the thought. The idea that he thought he could push her so far brought her anger welling back up to the surface. Anger at him, anger at herself, anger at the situation. It brought back some of her everyday personality.

"Oh you have got to be kidding," she told him. "You think that finding me like this gives you the right to treat me like this? Fuck you. Put me back up. Lose me my job, humiliate me, fine. But I am not going to drink your piss."

She waited for him to haul her back up into position, resigning herself to her fate. Maybe there was still a chance, though...

"Look, Oliver," she tried, before he started to put the muzzle back on so she could be fixed to the ceiling. "I've been a bitch to you. I'm... well, you're right, I'm not sorry, but maybe I was harder on you than I needed to be. And now you have the upper hand and you want some payback. I understand that, and I don't blame you. And I've said I am willing to make a deal with you to buy your silence. But not at any price. You have to be reasonable. I mean, sure, this way you get your revenge, and I get fired and I probably have to change my name and move state and start all over again. You may feel that's justified for a few months of being treated badly - not that I think you were - but okay. But it also kills your hold over me. You don't get your little plaything any more. So let's... just set some ground rules, okay? Now I've gone along with every dumb suggestion you've made so far, apart from the last one - and I'll honour my promises. Three hours every weekday morning, you get me, and I'll do what you say - within reason. During office hours I'll treat you with the respect you feel you deserve, and obey what I feel are reasonable instructions, always bearing in mind that you have the power to end this and bring me down if you feel strongly on any particular point and we're not able to reach an agreement. But outside of that is my time. That's my counter-offer. You don't like it, fine, walk away. Because I'm not becoming some kind of full time sex slave just to save this job."