Introduction:
This story is intended to be a modern romance with a kinky twist. For the romance, I've worked hard to provide sympathetic characters, an interesting story, and, of course, a happy ending. For the kink, I've provided BDSM, non-consent, incest, anal, minor scat, exhibitionism, implied gay, mature, interracial, and group. Please let me know if I succeeded with either the romance or the kink. Or, best of all, if I succeeded in blending them together.
My first scene was inspired by Cockatoo's "The Bondage Bench." If you read his excellent story, you will find an unmistakable family resemblance.
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Act 1:
"Do you remember what the box looked like?"
"Yea, Jake. I think it was yellow with 'Tom's Photo Shop' on it."
It was a Saturday morning and the first really warm day of the year. Carol was wearing a tube top and shorts and looking just as good as it's possible for a stunning redhead to look and still be legal, as Carol and Jake searched through the basement of Jake's house looking for a box of pictures from their childhood.
Jake led the way through the piled up memories, some of them too valuable to throw away, some of them too painful.
"I remember seeing it, but it's been years. I think it was over here. What do you want them for?"
"I was telling Karen about them last night and she wanted to see them."
Carol and Jake had grown up next door to each other until her father's business took off and her family moved into the big house at the edge of town. She was the major love of his life from the time he first discovered what girls were. They had always been very close, but, at her insistence, it was brother and sister close, and Jake had married someone else. That marriage ended a couple of years earlier when his wife died of cancer.
"Well, we've looked in all the obvious places. I'll get a flashlight and start moving some of this stuff around so we can look behind it."
Jake was a good-looking, caring, intelligent man with an ironic sense of humor and considerable quiet charm, but Carol had never taken him seriously as a love interest. Part of the reason may have been the difference in their heights, Carol was three inches taller than Jake and had been since they were teenagers together. That didn't mean Jake was short, he was a perfectly respectable five foot eleven, but Carol had grown to be six foot two, which made the fact that she was taller than him noticeable, especially if she was wearing heels. Also, he wasn't obviously muscular. He had a lean runner's body with more bulk in the arms and shoulders from summers spent working construction to earn money for school. It was firm and strong, but not showy; like the rest of him--quiet. Carol went for the bulky, domineering, exploiter types, and her life had been one abusive relationship after another. In the last couple of years, she'd added drinking too much, experimenting with drugs and unprotected sex with strangers. And, when she landed on her ass--again, Jake was always there to pick her up and take her home. Good old dependable Jake.
"Wait. What's in here, Jake? We haven't looked in here yet."
"No! It's not in there! Carol, don't go in there!"
"What secrets are you hiding in this room, Jake? I want to see."
"Damn it, Carol! Don't go in there!"
"Oh! Is that what I think it is? I had no idea you were such a pervert!"
What she was referring to was a bondage bench Jake built for his late wife, Mary. It was a narrow padded bench with a couple of planks with padded wrist holes between them, like eighteenth century pillory stocks, at one end, and split to hold the victims legs apart at the other. Straps for chest, waist, thighs and ankles were located at appropriate places along its length.
After Mary died Jake left the bench and the room that held it pretty much untouched. It was Mary's special room: her playground, and became even more important to her after her illness, and the equally debilitating medical treatment, robbed her of her hair, her figure, and eventually all sensation in her body. When all she could feel was pain and nausea, she could still enjoy the fantasy. Even two years later, deciding what to do with the room was just too painful for Jake to face.
"Come on, Carol! It's not that big a deal! Don't tell me you haven't experimented a little yourself."
"A little, yes. But I never built an entire dungeon! Oh, I can't wait to tell Karen! No wonder you wanted me to come down to the basement. You wanted to get me into your lair."
Karen was Carol's roommate. She was, if possible, even more self-destructive than Carol, and a compulsive gossip. Nothing was private once Karen knew it.
"Carol, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Karen. This is a little personal, you know."
"Ha! Tell her what? That you're a closet perv? That you lured me down here with wicked designs on my body?"
She climbed on the table, and pushed her hands through the holes in the head board.
"Oooooh noooo! I'm caught and can't get away! Ooooh, Sir, what do you mean to doooo with me?"
The reason Mary and Jake had chosen the stocks design instead of wrist cuffs was because it allowed Mary to bond herself. When she wanted to play on the bench, she would take off her clothes, buckle on the ankle cuffs, put on the blindfold, shove her hands through the holes in the head board, and wait for Jake to come home from work. The way the padding in the wrist holes was slanted made it easy to push through but impossible to pull back out. The weight of the upper plank and the lack of leverage from lying flat on her back with her arms extended above her head made it difficult, but not impossible, to lift the top plank and escape. Jake had insisted on that safety feature. But, there was a trick to it and it took a while to figure out if you didn't already know it. Mary had insisted on the trick so it wouldn't feel too easy to escape and spoil the illusion.
Carol wiggled her hips and spread her legs to match the shape of the bench.
"Ha ha! Help, oh hellllp! I'm facing a fate worse than death! Come on, Jake. Aren't you going to finish strapping me down? Then what do you do, whips and chains? Come on, show me your nasty tricks."
Although she was very attractive in her shy way, Mary was not beautiful, rich or smart; and Jake knew all along he was not in love with her in the same way he had always loved Carol. But she was a kind, generous and courageous woman who just happened to like bondage. Her memory deserved better than the obscene mockery taking place in front of his eyes, and about to be spread all over town as soon as Carol could find some of her friends to laugh over it with.
"Actually, Carol, I built the bench, as well as the rest of this room, at Mary's request. She liked bondage quite a lot. Toward the end it was one of the few pleasures left to her. She didn't tell anyone because she was worried people would make fun of her, just as you're doing now. She was afraid it would be spread all over town, just as you're planning to do as soon as you leave here. You know how shy she was, and how puritanical her family is."
"Ah, shit! It was just a joke! I didn't know this was Mary's!"
"Or care?"
"Damn it! Why do you say that? I told you it was just a joke!"
