Not so Fun Games

Feeling stupid and more than a little embarrassed, Cynthia lay in a toy box wearing nothing but manacles. It was Peter's idea to play a game in the spare room with the notion it would stimulate their marriage. It had been a surprise that he wanted to take an interest in her but one more try at saving their marriage wouldn't hurt.

Her body was in good shape and something to be proud of. She was only twenty-four but dressing up in a cheerleaders outfit was, besides being an obvious request, embarrassing. When it turned into a major turn on for both of them she agreed to continue.

She tried him in a fireman's uniform and enjoyed it. During her sessions she had control and that more than anything excited her. After a few such games Cynthia had to admit the sex had been fun as they took it in turns to play out fantasies.

Today it was his turn. She had read something about bondage but was not ready to try anything quite so serious. Perhaps if she were the one in control she would consider it. He had performed his part at the weekend and while softened up had agreed to at least give it a try.

"So long as it doesn't hurt and no marks!" she had warned him.

"Look, don't worry you'll have a safe word. I promise to stop at your word," he reassured her.

"Well, I guess we might as well give it a go," she conceded. Two ideas collided in her mind. You shouldn't knock it until you've tried it and having him tied up and helpless at her feet would be fun. He was sure to go easy on her and maybe find it boring, she hoped. The flood gates would be opened though, ready for her to humiliate him.

After all the deal had been that anything goes in the playroom. So when it came to her turn she would have her fun at his expense. For the moment his fantasy would have to be endured. Getting into the box, then getting the manacles on had been difficult - feeling slightly ridiculous as well as helpless did nothing for her.

He had insisted that she manacle herself ready for his return home from the office. It would have been easier if he had prepared her, though it did fit into his fantasy. The one she hadn't bothered to listen to.

After all this effort if he simply took advantage of her when he came in she would make it even tougher on him later. He would have to excite her with something interestingly naughty to make all this effort worthwhile.

Arriving home on time Peter launched into the game, which was for him to rescue her away from a gang. They had tied her up to keep as a hostage.

She still wondered why she was naked but what did it matter as it was his fantasy today. Opening her mouth to complain about something he pushed a gag into her mouth. Unprepared for it she nearly choked. He would certainly pay for this indignity.

Smiling inwardly she thought about some pleasurable torture to be played out on him over the weekend. A more positive thought crossed her mind - at least she wouldn't have to respond to the ridiculous fantasy dialogue now she was gagged. Attempting another complaint found that nothing intelligible was emitted form behind the gag. Talking rubbish was nothing unusual from one of his scripts.

When it was her turn to play a game she would exact an unpleasant revenge on him and having nothing better to do than just lay there she had plenty of time to think of something horrible. She would choose an uncomfortable fantasy to place him under her control.

'Never mind,' she thought, 'he was sure to pay her enough attention to make a little discomfort worth while.' While sighing deeply she wondered if that was the only reason she played these games. The opportunity to humiliate and torture him was too tempting. Nothing heavy, just inflicting a little pain would be enough. Up to then the plots had not involved props, such as this box or the set of manacles, just clothing.

The outfits had been silly, usually uncomfortable, and always brief. Lying there she wondered how it had gradually built to this situation where it was acceptable to let her husband bind, gag and blindfold her. It was definitely something she would not want anyone to find out about.

How embarrassing would it be if her office-staff found out their finance director was into kinky sex? She had often said she was willing to try anything. It had been a joke, but her husband was using her words against her. She had to admit there had been some very steamy sex during and after these games. Playing the harem girl had led to a particularly sordid weekend.

It was improving their sex life but that was all. Love was still as illusive as before. Perhaps it was time to end the marriage. At their age it wasn't too late to find the right partners. She was beautiful in a girl-next-door kind of way that produced offers, through not necessarily of marriage.

Seeing the lid in his hand ready to swing shut brought her attention fully into focus. Not that she was frightened of enclosed spaces it was just that the game script hadn't called for her to be shut in. The theme for this evening was for her to be rescued by a daring stranger. She had been looking forward to a little rough and tumble while manacled. So now what?

"I guess I've found the solution to our marriage problems, a solution for me anyway. I sold you to someone. He will be here soon with a van to take you away. It will be comfortable as long as you're not claustrophobic. As far as I know your not, are you?"

She shook her head, and then felt stupid remembering it was just a game. This was not the script he had given her. He was supposed to rescue her and she was supposed to be so very grateful, blah and bloody blah. Pathetic, so maybe this would turn out more interesting.

"You'll be taken to a nice big house in the country. I expect you'll like that. You've been working too hard this past year, so a change will do you good. More than just a vacation, more permanent, more like a life style, err, modification. That's what he said, you'll be modified."

Staring through the black cloth to where he stood above her she didn't know what to say, even if she could. Hardly listening to his babble she began to drift off into her own fantasy. He couldn't accuse her of not joining in the spirit of the thing while bound and gagged.

He sounded so serious and a little sad. He should be excited, as it was his game so it should have been a turn on. After all it was his day. If it turned out well they could continue all weekend.

He told her, "I'll miss you. You'll have to admit there is nothing of our marriage to save, so, this is a way out. Admittedly it's a good one for me. No messy divorce. Apparently you won't mind either, after awhile."

A slight smile played upon his lips, which would have chilled her if she could have seen it. Instead she merely thought he was reading, rather badly, from a script. For a moment she forgot they were playing a game. Her breasts heaved up as though reaching for him when her breathing quickened. Relax, she told herself. Perhaps it was his intention to frighten her. 'Just relax and go along with it,' she thought.

"For the first few months you'll be trained. He uses some clever psychological techniques, but I didn't understand what he was saying. The important thing is you won't be hurt or care too much. I do remember him saying you'll adjust quickly as your current life becomes a distant memory in a surprisingly short time. You will live your new life as though it were quite natural. He said something like that anyway. It's some kind of thorough brain washing," Peter told her.

"You will be exercised to bring your body to a peak of perfect fitness. That's something you've always wanted the time to do. Isn't it?"

Nodding weakly she suddenly felt the helplessness keenly - forced to listen to this stupid story, waiting to play a part, was just so tiresome. Unable to fathom its purpose she decided to twist it to her own needs, to at least elicit some satisfaction from what seemed to becoming a very wretched evening.

"Your diet will be controlled, something you could never do. I don't know how he does it but you will be a programmed slave, willing and very able. I'm sorry I know how you love details but didn't ask him much, just wanted to make sure you will be alright."

"After six months you will be just as he wants you, like some kind of sex doll. It sounded like you will be a very talented doll ready to perform on demand. The way he described the new you I'd like to have a go myself." Peter spoke quietly. It was as though he were working up the courage to continue.

"Oh. That reminds me. I can't see you again as it will be unsettling for you in the new life. So this is it. This is good bye." He leaned close, ready to kiss her forehead farewell, then didn't. The lid closed soundlessly finalizing the rambling speech.

She had stopped listening to the murmuring idiot while twisting the story to her own satisfaction, which was probably just as well.

Caught up in ideas he had evoked her mind raced with stimulating thoughts. She was aroused but unable to reach her sex so would have to patiently await his bidding. Ready for satisfaction right now it was a nuisance having to wait but she couldn't even cry out to demand his attention.

He made this story seem so real her body was afire with thoughts of humiliation in the hands of a stranger. The seriousness in his voice had brought an element of fear that heightened her senses and the restraints heightened her sexual frustration.

It was all brought together to tease her into uncharacteristic submission leaving her sure that whatever it was he wanted she would be enthusiastically performing tonight. Even that thought was humiliating which only served to stimulate her more. Perhaps he had found something previously hidden after all.

The sound of the front door banging shut meant a visitor. Damn! Not now. Almost crying with frustration she knew a longer wait would work on the already stretched nerves increasing the sexual tension to breaking point.

"Oh! Waiting!" She didn't want to wait she wanted satisfaction now! The sound of voices in their playroom stopped her struggling. She froze in hot anger. Her heart beat loudly in the small confines of the box.

Snatches of muffled conversation from her husband told her he was going too far. Someone was helping him carry the box downstairs. It was against the rules to leave the sanctuary of their playroom. To involve someone else was an absolute taboo! Keeping still and quiet took a concentrated effort when she wanted to wriggle and squirm.

The anger melted from her thoughts and feelings at this unexpected turn of events. Had a neighbor arrived unexpectedly for him to improvise someone into their private game? It was unlike him to improvise. Everything had to be planned in detail. 'You are a boring man!' she had often told him. He had the cheek to accuse her of being into tedious details.

This was not a good idea! If they guessed kinky games were being played at number eleven the neighborhood would be awash with rumors. There would be no need to exaggerate such a bizarre spectacle. A wife falling out of a box wearing nothing but manacles would be just so embarrassing she would be unable to show her face for months to come.

What a picture, it was awful. This game had gone far enough. Unable to protect herself she would be available to anyone, whoever it was that found her. This new scenario was stoking up her inner fire.

Outside she could hear the sounds of nighttime. She yelled. Not a scream but a scared yell from mounting panic. In the box the sound was a muffled whimper to her ears, so outside it would not be heard at all.

She managed to get a grip and calmed down. "Good!" she said. The last thing she wanted was to be found out. The fantasy of being found naked and helpless, especially by him from number fifteen, was exciting. But, it was just that. A fantasy, not something she really wanted.

Being talked about could be amusing, but laughed at, that would be demeaning. No way would she want to be made into a poor, humiliated wretch. She would have to suffer his stupid game in silence.

Peter stood watching the van disappear around a corner of their street. Surprised she made no protest, not even kicking the side of the box, felt like an anticlimax. She had always been so fiery it was a bit of a disappointment seeing her leave so quietly. Still, it had been one of the objectives of this outrageous plan, to have her quietly taken care of by a stranger.

He met the man through the internet. When they drew up a plan of action it had seemed like another silly game until this moment, when reality set in leaving him feeling a little frightened of what the consequences might be. With the stranger's experience of that hidden world of slave trading and his personal knowledge of her, it had been fairly straightforward. Right up until the last moment he had wondered if there was still such a thing as a slave trade.

It was not part of the plan to tell her why she was in the box but she hadn't complained and now it was too late. The games had been exciting but they merely served a purpose, culminating in her being conveniently packaged away for collection. It had been so simple, so far. Now he had the job of fielding questions from friends and neighbors when they missed her. That too had been planned for with the story that she had run away with a rich older man. A bit embarrassing but he could put up with it.

***

In the back of the van the box was gentle rocking Cynthia to sleep despite her anger. She had told herself that the van would drive around for awhile then deposit her back home where the grinning face of her husband would be revealed on opening the box. That was when she would kick him in the balls.

When it was opened she was still unconscious from the gas injected into the cramped space of the box. Lifting her limp form was a practiced art, using a hoist and sling under both arms. Lowered into another very different container she lay snoring, oblivious to the predicament developing around her. It would be a surprise for the morning.

***

Slowly coming too Cynthia was bemused at her condition and where she was. It was as though she were still in a dream but on shaking her head found she was still gagged. The room was strange and in what little light there was she could see the bars of a cage.

With great difficulty she crawled to the bars to find she was on the inside. It was large enough to stand in but at the moment preferred to remain on hands and knees, until her head cleared. Perhaps then she would stand and stretch her aching body.

Holding onto the bars she pulled herself upright in a series of stiff movements eliciting dull throbbing pain. The gag was still in place but caution prevented her from yelling out, even though the desire to cry for help was threatening to overcome her.

The manacles were gone so she could flex her arms by reaching through the bars above her head. For once she was pleased at not being so tall. When she attempted to stretch her legs a dark ache spread from between them.

With both hands she grabbed herself to find a hard object between the legs - two of them. Something was protruding from in front and another from behind. Exploring herself she found a sort of plug had been fitted into her bottom. Looking down in the gloom she could see another between the legs. She felt it then pulled gently.

Neither of the plugs would budge, however hard she pulled, which was not very much if she wanted to avoid pain. Thin chains dangled from them up to the bars of the cage. They were long enough for her to reach the mattress in one corner and she wondered what they were for.

This was definitely not their playroom. Exploring the gag she found it was not the one Peter had placed into her mouth some time ago. How long ago was that? This gag was a plug, something like the ones between her legs. Exploring it with hesitant fingers she wondered at its complexity.

Before she could come to terms with the new fittings added to her body a sound rushed into her consciousness from out of the darkness. A door was being opened admitting a draught of fresh air to brush her naked body. Each one of the fine hairs on her body bristled with fear. Who had done this to her - she was about to find out.

A light flickered then shone brightly above her leaving the man standing there in shadow. The dark silhouette was tall and powerful. It spoke.

"From now on you are mine and you will do as I say. Exactly as I say. Do you understand? Nod your head." The stranger's voice intoned.

She stood in terrified silence unable to move. This must surely be a nightmare. Somewhere a fan started waving cool air over her body, adding cold to the fear making her shiver. The unreality of the situation had gripped her, now she gripped her body in an attempt to protect herself from the cold and his stare.

"I can make your stay here worse or better," the stern voice stated. The cold breeze became a warming draught yet she continued to hug her naked body.

"You are tired, thirsty and hungry. You will need to bathe, go to the toilet and sleep. All of these functions will need my permission. Think about this for awhile, until I return, then you will do as you are told," he stated.

The stranger looked at her intently, although she could only tell this from his stance as the bright light still shone in her eyes leaving him in shadow.

"Do you understand?" he asked. It sounded like a command rather than a question. This time she nodded. Seeing him turn to leave she started yelling. "Let me out! Don't leave me here. Bastard! Get me out!" Anger overwhelmed the fear.

Frightening as the stranger was his absence was more worrying. He was right. She could do nothing without him. A feeling of being trapped and caged like an animal shoved the anger to one side. Her numb mind had explored the situation with curiosity but now she was fully awake.

Anger crept up on her until she thrashed around in frustration attempting to break the chains and smash the devices attached to her body. It was no good they were some kind of hard steel, maybe even titanium.

What had her husband told her? She tried to recall his parting words wishing more notice had been taken of them. If she were awake this nightmare was of his doing. Once free she would give him hell!

The little everyday actions of eating and drinking, even keeping warm, were taken for granted but were now beyond her control. The elaborate cage and what looked like a dungeon was too expensive to be just set-up for her. Whatever went on here others had been subjected to the same indignity. That was a very worrying thought.

She was completely dependent on this stranger for her well-being and it felt very nearly for her entire existence too. To avoid being cold, thirsty, hungry, even going to the toilet, all was impossible without him. This was surely a nightmare and she hoped to wake soon.

So now she knew the purpose of the devices in each of her orifices. Why was he doing this to her. "Why me?" she tried to say. The muted whimpering escaping from behind the gag sounded pathetic to her ears. Why was she here? What was he going to do to her?

She had thought her husband was merely filling her in on a scene he wanted to play but this looked serious. It was grim and very frightening. Did he really say she had been sold? The stranger said she belonged to him which seemed to confirm the ridiculous notion.

She could do nothing but obey him for there was no option. She would have to do as she was told, something quit foreign to her. The questions circled around in her mind until she thought it madness; a nightmare unfolding in her mind. She was too tired, hungry and thirsty to think straight.

With those bungs in her body she couldn't eat or visit the bathroom unless he undid them. On hearing the door open she braced herself for what he might want or do to her.