Luxuriating in what would be an otherwise horrible experience for most, she kneeled on her hard wooden perch, bound, tied, and gagged. Her only clothing was a severe leather waist-cincher that had a strap running from front to rear, firmly holding a pair of very large dildos in her ass and pussy. Her muscles screamed from lactation caused by the arm-binder that stretched her shoulders to near breaking. 

The leather neck-corset that was so tightly laced, prevented her from moving her head and the constriction of her breathing, caused her to be light-headed.

She was more contented and happier than she could ever remember being in the past. Her mind would flash before her eyes, brief snippets of past happenings: some were day to day events, some were highly sexually charged and not completely understood. To her, it seemed that her life was in a rewind, and the tape was slowly starting to replay.

She heard herself being called, and answering to a name, that was quite different than the one she now thought was hers. It seemed to fit her personality, and it had a pleasant ring to it. Her daydreams faded in and out, as time seemed to crawl forward.

Breaking the silence of her meditation, she heard the man’s voice call out to his assistants, “Take her arms out of the binder, release her neck corset and ball gag.” She was happy that she would once again have her movement back, as she had so many questions to ask. Oddly enough, the voice of the man seemed to be different, and as he stood in front of her, she thought that his visage was different too.

The man now started to look vaguely familiar, and the voice seemed to have a familiar ring to it as well. Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her; now that one of the assistants had taken a cold, wet, cotton-ball and wiped her eyelids clear, so that she could once again see.

She stretched her arms, to relieve the stress from their long encasement in the arm binder, and moved her neck from side to side, now that the neck corset had been removed.

She looked at the man and asked him, “What would you have of me now, Sir?”

“That’s up to you,” he answered. “Normally, I would be very upset with you for running away, but in your case, I can understand why. Your youth, and your beauty may have been too much for you to handle, along with your responsibilities to me. What you have just experienced is an ancient Japanese ritual, called the Bukakke: it is symbolic of a woman that has defiled her reputation in her village. She would beg her husband for forgiveness, in the form of Bukakke, an ancient ritual. Her husband would then dress her in a ceremonial garment of the finest red silk, take her to the town square, and present her to all the other males in his village, for their use.

She would be forced to kneel on a raised platform for all to see. Her arms would be bound behind her back, and her husband would stand in front of her to watch. Groups of the men would approach her, take their cocks out and masturbate onto her face and into her mouth, all the while muttering profanity and sexual taunts.

Ritual says that if there were less than 50 males in the village to participate, the husband was duty-bound to go to the next village and recruit more, to assure a full count. The ritual allowed that if she accepted the punishment without a word or action, she was saved from her fate.

If not, she was cast out, with her arms still tied behind her back, her face still covered in all of the men’s cum, bearing the results of her punishment.

She was never allowed back into her village, nor allowed to see her husband or children again. If she was able to get herself free, she could once again start her life over in another village, if they would accept her. This ritual continued up to the early part of the 20 th Century in many parts of Japan, and we are continuing the legend here, today. You have passed, with no reservations,” he finished.

With that, he knelt down and put his hand under her very wet and sticky chin. Her face was still covered with the residue of countless ejaculations, but to him, she was never more beautiful. He pressed his lips against hers, and kissed her deeply and passionately. His mouth filled with the salty cum, which was thickly deposited on her, but it mattered not, that it was the seed of dozens of strange men. Because it was on her, it was the most wonderful taste in the world, and being able to share her joy was his ultimate pleasure. Little did she know the love that he harbored for her. Someday, she would fully regain her memory, and become his, totally and forever.

He released the leather straps on the waist-cincher that held her in a kneeling position on the raised platform. He then ordered his two latex-covered assistants to take her to her suite of rooms, to insure that she was fully cleansed inside and out, and prepared for the dinner feast.

As she walked with her two guardians, she asked many questions, but received no answers.

The only answer she got was, “Master will tell you all that you need to know.”

Once inside of her quarters, she was helped onto a table, which appeared to be an old fashioned, medical examining table.

Her ankles were fastened to stirrups; her waist was belted down tightly to the table by a wide leather strap that was permanently attached at one end, with a large buckle on the other. Her wrists were then tied to large steel rings on the sides of the table, rendering her motionless. The cold starkness of the room only belied what was to be her next adventure.

The girl in the gold latex catsuit and hood, placed rubber gloves on her covered hands, and took from a shelf nearby, a large clear plastic tube about six feet in length, with a red, inflatable, ball-like device, about five-feet from the end.

She proceeded to lubricate the end of the tube, and approached her with it. Bending forward, she placed the end of the tube against her anal opening and slid it inside of her. She gasped, having never felt herself being so violated. The girl did not stop. Without hesitation, she continued to insert the entire length of the tube into her anus, including the uninflated rubber ball. Once the tube was fully inserted, she took the inflating tube that was attached to it, and squeezed the air-bulb several times, until the internal ball was fully inflated. It felt to her: that she had indeed been violated, but she did not really mind it, in fact, the experience was vaguely exiting and highly sexual. The girl in gold latex proceeded to attach the end of the tube to a large machine and put her hand on the switch. Stopping for a second, she asked her if she had ever had experienced colonic cleansing before.

She answered, “I don’t know anything, any more.”

She was told that in order to assure her full cleansing, she would receive the following, in order: “First, two quarts of warm mineral oil, to be flushed out with three quarts of warm soapy water. Secondly, four quarts of yogurt, from John Harvey Kellogg’s own formula, and then a nice rinse of Wintergreen oil, Cinnamon oil, and ice water, will finish you off nicely.”

The click of the switch sent shock waves through her body; she tensed up and expected the worst. It didn’t happen. The machine’s treatment was wonderful, she felt the solutions being pumped into her, and then quickly removed, over and over until she was fully treated. She felt invigorated, and full of life. Each of the fluids that were pumped into her had a different feeling, ranging from soothing to stimulating, and finally, sharpness, not unlike fire, from the spiced oils and ice water that were pumped deep into her colon. She tensed her body and slowly relaxed, savoring the pain it caused.

Afterwards, a wonderful bubble bath, and a full body massage with rare oils, treated her body. She was dried and taken to her bed chamber. There, she was fitted into what was to be her uniform for the evening, or at least part of it.

A beautiful, shiny, purple-spandex suit, covering every inch of her body, with only a small zippered opening for her mouth was fitted to her by the two latex-clad girls that attended her. The sensations of the smooth tightly form fitted suit sent her mind racing once again, the mind-flashes returned in rapid fire order with mental pictures of wildly sexual scenes flashing on and off.

On her legs, the girl dressed in head to toe black vinyl, fitted an exquisite pair of thigh-high, platform boots, made of the finest patent leather. They caressed her legs, as their form fitted design, hugged her so wonderfully tight. She had never before seen boots so beautiful, nor with heels so terribly high.

Not being too good at walking with so little light to help her see. She was guided from her bed chamber to the dining room, by her two latex-clad assistants.

Master sat there quietly, waiting for her to arrive. From the little that she could see, he was dressed from head to toe, all in black leather. It was like he was ready to go motorcycle riding, but in a very erotic, fetish way. Besides his clothing, he had a black leather hood on his head that was fitted with numerous straps, all holding it tightly to his head. Oh his legs: he had crotch-high, black, platform, laced boots with stiletto heels. She became immediately aroused by the way he looked.

Dinner was difficult, she could not see what she was eating very well, and trying to get it into her mouth, through a small opening, was trying to say the least.

One of the girls leaned over and whispered, that she would get used to it soon, and she would be able to walk around easily too, once she got used to the boots.

As dinner progressed, she kept getting more and more vivid flashes. The man’s voice seemed to continue changing as well, and became more familiar. Oddly to her, she was getting more aroused by being fully covered, and was getting used to having her senses limited. The small rays of light that she could see were becoming enough for her to function, and rather well at that. The room seemed more visible, as did the shapes and forms of the others around her.

Dinner concluded with the Master telling his assistants to, “Get her ready.”

That sounded ominous to her, but exciting as well. What was to follow?

As she stood up, one of the girls placed a black leather, heavily-boned corset around her waist, and began to fasten the busk. The corset was no fashion item: this was the real thing, a true Victorian Corset, with many steel bones inside of it. The corset was slowly tightened: causing her waist to constrict by at least 6 inches she imagined, and her bust to protrude accordingly. This was not bad, she thought. Breathing was extremely difficult, as the final lacing was done. Her mid-section was now wasp-like, and tightly compressed, limiting her air capacity.

The need to work for her breath brought a stirring to her innermost being, and a feeling of absolute sexual fever deep within her.

She was then fitted with long, heavy, rubber, gauntlet gloves and a full-coverage, a motorcycle-like helmet was placed on her head. Once the matching purple helmet was fastened, the face shield was lowered over her eyes and at once she was able to see everything around her. Somehow, the shield made the purple spandex that covered her face transparent. It was as if she was uncovered and unmasked.

Master was right in front of her, and was wearing his full, skin-tight, leathers as she had suspected. He too had a full face helmet on, and was gloved, booted in stiletto-heeled, crotch-high lace-up boots, heavily corseted as she was, and ready to go with her. He took her by the hand and walked her outside to a black, full dress, restored, Police style, antique, Harley Davidson motorcycle that was idling by the front of the house. The staccato sound that the old shovel head engine made: “thrump, thrump,” was music to her ears. She instinctively threw her leg over the back of the bike and grabbed onto Master’s waist. He dropped the clutch into gear, and together they sped off. Riding seemed second nature to her, another mind flash experience . . .

Apparently, it was something that she had done often. She anticipated every curve, corner, and lane change. She was totally at ease and loving every second of it. The warm summer’s sky was illuminated by the most beautiful blanket of stars that she had ever seen. Nothing could be wrong tonight, she dreamed. A long hour drive brought them to their destination. It was a dark, secluded beach, at the end of a narrow, vine-covered road, which wound around like a snake, threatening to engulf them. He helped her from the bike and took her by the hand. He hugged her so tightly that she felt faint. He loosened her helmet, and placed it on the backrest of the Harley, with near reverence to it. Amazingly, she was still able to see, and quite clearly.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Your sight will slowly degrade again with the helmet off. It’s normal.”

“OK,” she thought, so far, so good . . .

He placed his helmet next to hers and took her by the hand. She thought to herself: he was becoming more distinct and familiar to me . . . but why are we at this desolate place. Is he going to drown me, or something?

The brief moment of panic subsided as he began to talk with her, walking with her over the dunes, and across the wide expanse of sand. They walked for what seemed eternity, which was not being made easier by the high platform boots that she was wearing. Somehow, it mattered not, as she was quickly becoming used to this, too . . .

They stopped at a wide dune which overlooked a beautiful curve in the beach; the lights of the city were in the distance across the bay, they seemed to illuminate the sky just for her. He took the blanket that he had carried with them and spread it on the sand. He motioned to her to sit down next to him. She complied at once. He wrapped his arms around her and began to tell her a story that she could not believe, nor fully understand.

Her sight, now completely obscured once again, only amplified the intensity of the tale.

Her prior life was a fantastic journey of love, lust, and adventures. She had been a very powerful woman that controlled her surroundings like clockwork. The sexual adventures, which she had experienced, made her blush under her purple-hooded suit.

“A good thing he can’t see me now,” she said to herself.

With that, he took her into his arms. He began to caress and kiss her, through her purple, spandex suit. The tender kisses shot like lightning, through her entire body, electrifying her and igniting her libido.

He rolled onto his back, and brought her into a kneeling position, over his hips. Gently, he reached up to her and unzipped the crotch zipper on her suit. He slowly pulled her toward his mouth: his tongue meeting the tender lips of her labia, and the gentle flicking of her clitoris with his tongue, sent her mind reeling off into another dimension. She felt the waves of sexual energy sweep over her, until her body could take no more. She felt the swell of energy ignite, and send her into an orgasm unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Not only was it a crashing, breath-stopping orgasm, but, it was the progenitor to many rapidly successive ones, which sent her off to multiple mind flashes and vivid scenarios of her prior life.

Just as she thought she could take no more, and collapsing onto her Master’s chest, he pushed her down to his hips. She felt his engorged cock violating her pussy, like a steel ram-rod. She was near exhaustion from his oral ministrations, and struggling to gather enough air to stay conscious, as her steel-boned corset hugged her, like a bear’s grip. The feeling of his cock filling her throbbing pussy set her afire again, she thrust herself back and forth on his shaft, pinning him under her, as she pleasured herself with his body once more. His only function now, was to provide the final experience she craved, being fully coupled to her Master.

Moaning like a school girl, she felt the wonderful flood of his cum shooting deeply inside of her. She felt more alive than ever before in her life, and knew that this was to be her place, forever. As she bent forward to fall onto his chest, she felt her mind explode, in a bright, blinding, show of cascading lights. Resting but for a minute, Master pulled her away from his cock and back to his mouth. He opened it wide: grabbing onto her thighs with his arms, he pulled her firmly onto his waiting tongue. Master knew his duty to his lady, was never to leave her in an unclean state.

She was filled with her Master’s cum, which he lovingly licked and sucked from her. She could not believe that he would do this with her, thinking, that like most men, he would simply roll over and fall into the sleep of lovers. Not so, she found out, Master was fulfilling his duty to the letter, and in so doing, she again felt the unmistakable stirring from deep within. She could not believe that she was once again, beginning the journey to unbelievable bliss. It was a short trip. She exploded within minutes, moaning and crying out, at the top of her lungs. Master did not let go of her: she tried to pull back, knowing that she was in dire need of peeing, from all the excitement that she had undergone. She begged Master to let her up so that she could relieve herself, but Master simply grinned, and held onto her with an unbreakable grip.

“I really need to get up now and wet, I cannot hold it any longer,” she begged.

Master just used his tongue once again, to lick the tender zone of the clitoris, driving her into frenzy.

“Please,” she begged, “I cannot wait.”

With that, she let go of an uncontrollable flood of her golden juices, even before the words had finished. Master made no sounds, other than obviously sensual gulping and moaning sounds. His pleasure was off the scale now, and he could not hold back. Releasing the grip his mouth held on her, so that he could breathe, she flooded his face with what seemed like gallons of hot piss. Master went wild, pulling her back to his mouth, to finish her with another intense orgasm.

Finally, the two lovers collapsed together, with no strength left between them.

She saw her life more clearly now than ever before, even though her sight was totally blocked. She now knew what it was all about, and what, “Love turns back the hands of Time,” meant.

It was all plain now, and she was back where she belonged. Nothing was foreign, or misunderstood. It was as it should have always been. And as it would always be.

After a sleep unlike any that they had ever known before, she remounted his bike, this time knowing her true place as they roared off into the moonlit night.

She would forever be his slave, his servant, and his lover. Never again would she desire her freedom, nor the ability to roam. Her only place was to be kept tied, bound, locked and chastised by her Master.