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."
"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,"
"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 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 Gaenecologist,
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 Gaenecologist 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,"
