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Satine was the most desired, most well compensated professional dominatrix in all of New York City. This was for a very good reason, as she was close to six feet tall, with long, straight fire red hair, massive, firm and natural tits, and a serious sadistic streak that she loved using on wealthy perverts.
Bob Eastwick was a wealthy pervert, except his tastes ran towards dominating women, not being dominated by them. He had noticed Satine over a year before, and had worked constantly over that time to find out everything about her. He knew that she genuinely hated men, that she worked in an upscale brothel located in a Soho, that she was fabulously wealthy with her lifestyle, and most importantly that she lived out on Long Island, in a large, ocean front house, with an assortment of women coming and going in her life. That discovery of her house, and also of her real name, (The not nearly as exotic Jennifer Monroe) allowed Eastwick to plot his obsession. To kidnap and take Satine and keep her as a bondage sex slave for as long as she remained beautiful.
In order to do this, he stalked Satine, spending countless hours on the beach near her house, hidden behind dunes with binoculars trained, and listening devices straining to hear her every word. He learned everything about her, her comings and goings, her friends and social life. He also learned everything possible about her security system including through constant telescoping viewing of Satine every time she entered the house, what he thought was the security code for the houses alarm system. This was the key to his entire plan, because with this code, he could enter the house when she was not there, and take his time binding her properly, before he took her to her final permanent home.
He picked a Saturday night, because she never worked Sundays or Mondays, and she would not be missed for a couple days at least. The more time that passed between her abduction, and any inquiries towards her whereabouts meant the likelihood of any witnesses being able to remember any odd happenings at the house. He had bought a cheap moped from a chop shop, and had stashed it, and a large bag of fetish bondage gear in an abandoned rain culvert fairly close to a train station out on the island. He took the second to last train out there, walked to the moped and bag of gear, and then drove the twelve miles out to near her house. He stopped nearly a mile away, shoved the moped under a short pier, then into the ocean itself, just enough so that when the moped was dropped on its side, it would be covered by water. The tide was coming in, so the bike would remain covered for a long time, and there would be no way to connect it to the disappearance of a high priced prostitute a mile away. He hiked down the beach, avoiding attracting any attention at all. Some of these beaches were private, but he had, of course, planned out the entire route, and by the time he arrived at his familiar sand bunker near his prey's house. The sand was problematic, because it would provide the only physical evidence he had been here. With any luck the wind over the next day would obliterate his prints, but he still took the time to sweep as many of his prints with a tree branch he picked up. Anything to confuse what had happened here. He confidently stepped up to the front door, and with practiced ease, jimmied the lock. She had not slid the deadbolt, even though he could have gotten through that easily enough, and he took that as a good omen for the potential for the rest of the evening. He stepped in quickly, turned to the keypad set right by the door and quickly typed in the numbers he knew he had seen. Despite the thin leather gloves he wore, his fingers easily accomplished the task.
1789....enter. The year of the storming of the Bastille, which was appropriate for someone that used the name of a famous French prostitute as her pseudonym.
The light on the pad changed obediently from red to green, and Eastwick sighed in relief. This had been one of the big unknowns of his quest, if this code would work. If it hadn't he was prepared to run quickly, and begin plotting another abduction attempt, but again, the fates smiled on him, and frowned on Satine. He turned on no lights, allowing the moon and the stars that filtered in to show the way. He carefully set himself up in the hallway right by the pad, and waited with infinite patience. He sat there for hours, until finally, close to three in the morning, a car pulled into the long driveway, and then into the detached garage. He could hear the garage door open, then close, and then the distant sounds of high heels on sidewalk. She was alone, which was the final piece of good luck he had needed. She did not seem to notice that the lock to the door had been jimmied earlier, and with no fumbling at all, slid the key in the lock, and opened the door. She closed it behind her, and strode with confidence over to the alarm keypad. She paused here, confused as to why the alarm showed green, when he attacked. He moved quicker than she could react, snaking his arms around her slender neck, while slamming her body into the wall, knocking the wind out of her. His powerful forearms contracted around her windpipe, chocking off her first attempt at a scream. He pulled back hard on her neck, jerking her off balance, while at the same time kicking her long legs out from her. Her four-inch high heels were no help to her here, and she was easily drug to the ground. He kept his chokehold on her, while forcing her face down onto a small rug. She was trying to claw behind her, but he was wearing a sturdy leather coat, and her blows were ineffectual. He released his choke hold at this point, wrapped his right hand in her thick red hair, and while pinning her to the ground with a brutal knee in the small of her back, jerked her head straight back. He then used his left hand to pull a massive, hard rubber head harness ball gag off his belt. While she bucked and twisted under him, he drove his knee even harder into her back, pulled back sharper with her hair, and shoved the ball into her opened mouth. She was too shocked to know what was happening for a moment, and despite her complete unwillingness, the ball forced her jaws ever wider, until it settled in behind her teeth. He grabbed a buckling strap, released her hair, and pulled it brutally behind her head, settling the ball deeper in her mouth. Satine felt her hair get caught in the roller buckle, and screamed into the gag. It emerged from the space as a choked gurgle. Eastwick pulled the gag strap as tight as he could, and buckled it off. Satine was trying to get her hands up to her face to try to get the obstruction out of her mouth, but Eastwick easily grabbed her wrists, and brutally pulled them behind her back.
"I'm a lot stronger than you, Jennifer." He said. "Not used to being manhandled are you?" Jennifer had noticed he had used her real name, a name she never used with anyone, anymore. She was realizing this might be more than a robbery or even a rape. He was threading a short leather belt between her elbows, while easily holding both her slender wrists in one of his massive hands. He looped the belt around both elbows, and pulled it tight, dragging her elbows together behind her back. Satine screamed again, as although she was flexible, she was not used to being bound in this way. In fact she was not used to being bound at all, as she hated any sign of weakness or helplessness.
"Lets put that gag on right, shall we." Eastwick taunted. "You know how one of these head harness gags work, don't you? " He grabbed the loose straps that were attached to the gag already in her mouth. " We pull these up over your head, and this one under your jaw, and we pull them as tight as we can before we lock them off. Is that right?" Satine could only groan in discomfort as the ball settled even farther in her mouth, and her already aching jaws sealed around it. She was fully aware of how effective this gag was, having shoved them into the mouths of dozens of helpless men. Her helpless arms fluttered around like butterfly wings, straining to reach up and unlock the gag. Eastwick kept his knee firmly planted in the small of Satines back, and pulled out an ultra sharp switchblade from one of his pockets.
"Don't move too much, this knife is really sharp, and you don't want that perfect skin of yours marred with some cuts. This will only take a moment." He grabbed the hem of her knee length skirt and with ease cut it off her body. He then quickly snipped off the tiny thong, then moved up to the loose, conservative blouse and plain white bra. Finally he removed her overly high heels and she was completely nude except for the gag and arm strap she wore against her will. He stood up, finally removing the painful knee from her back, and she curled up to try to hide herself. Her arms still straining hopelessly to be free. She got a brief look at her attacker, and did not recognize him at all. He seemed to be average looking, completely bald, and an unremarkable face. She could also see that he was a big man, well over six feet tall, and very broad in the chest. With the casual way he had moved her around, she knew that he was far stronger than her. He was messing around with a large black sports bag, and pulled out some items and came back over to her prone body. She was pulling her legs up to kick out, but he easily moved to her side, reached down, grabbed her by the hair with his one free hand, and pushed her back onto her stomach. Once again his knee jammed into her back, and she was pinned to the ground. Her full 38 D chest shoved onto the ground, and her groans of pain and humiliation barely audible with the ball in her mouth.
"I don't think you are going to like what happens next, my dear. I'm afraid that my preference for my women is that they be bound in the most stringent ways possible." As he was talking, he was also pulling a formed soft leather armbinder up her already bound arms. Satine knew instantly what was happening, and knew that once in a formed leather armbinder, there was no way possible to get free. She twisted and arched her body, desperate to keep it from being used on her. It was hopeless though, and very quickly he had it pulled up to her shoulders, and began to tighten the laces. Her clawing hands were soon forced into tight fists, as the space her hands had was reduced inch by inch. Satine continued to scream and buck, but both actions meant nothing. He had the armbinder laced up above her elbows, when he brutally grabbed her by the hair, took his knee out of her back, and lifted her to a kneeling position. He then crossed two narrow straps that ran over her shoulders, crossed between her massive tits, and then locked under her arms back to the binder. This prevented any pulling of the armbinder down her arms. It also gave Eastwick his first chance to see and touch Satines glorious breasts. Like the rest of her skin, they were pale, and completely flawless. He lightly stroked them, and Satine screamed again into her gag, trying to pull herself away.
"Cant stand the touch of a man, eh?" He teased, continuing to stroke her firm breasts. "I'm afraid that you no longer have any choice in anything you ever do from now on. That armbinder is a preview for how you are going to spend every moment of your life from now on. Completely helpless and tightly bound." He spun her around, and finished lacing up the armbinder as tightly as his considerable strength would allow. By the time he was done, the armbinder fit her like a second skin, with no slack at all. Inside the binder, Satine tested its limits. There was no give, no movement. Leather belts around her wrists, and elbows just reinforced how hopelessly her arms were trapped.
Then Eastwick got busy on binding her long, shapely legs. Very quickly he was able to overpower her rapidly diminishing efforts to stop him. He simply bound each ankle to the corosponding thigh with wide black leather belts, pulled to a brutal tightness. Her heels were fused to her ass, and her legs had become useless stumps. When he was done, he placed her back on her bound legs, with her sitting on her own feet. She still struggled, but the already strict bondage prevented much movement. He could not believe how incredible her naked, bound body looked. Her almost pure white skin countered with the jet black of the armbinder and leg straps. Her twisting of her body, as she tried to reach with her useless bound hands to the belts around her thighs, hoping to somehow pull them off her. Her massive tits bobbed provocatively with her every move, her large red lipsticked mouth wrapped completely around the massive ball in her mouth. A thin stream of drool had appeared from her lower lip, and when it finally dropped from her mouth, and onto her left tit, Satine noticed it and tried to look down to see what happened. When she realized she was drooling uncontrollably, it was the final humiliating straw for her. She began to sob into her gag, and the drool increased.
"Oh is the big bad boss, Satine learning what it feels like to be abused with bondage?" Eastwick laughed at her. "Its only going to get worse for you now. Time to take away your ability to see anything." He showed her the thick, black leather helmet he had brought along. It was not any sort of amateur device, but an evil looking thing, with no openings at all, except for two tiny, metal grommeted holes where the nostrils would be. It was a hood designed for punishment, to be hot, tight and impossible to consider removing without help. Satine had often used similar hoods on her male clientele, often with no warning, and with no attempt to get their permission. She loved the sounds a bound body made when you took away their face. She loved the looks of terror her cliets would have as their world went dark. She especially loved the muffled mews of fear, and the helpless questing for sound or light that their encased heads would do. Now she was going to be the one in the helmet, and there would be no safety measures around. No one else in the world would know she was bound and hooded like this. Satine had a terrible secret that she had never told anyone, because in her line of work, everything was about being strong, and brutal, and without any emotions. Satine, or more precisely Jennifer her real self, was pathologically terrified of enclosed spaces. She knew that there was no more claustrophobic an idea, more complete an enclosure of a person, than a tight, leather helmet. She stared wide eyed at Eastwick, as he showed her the inside of the helmet, with its paddings for her mouth, her eyes, and ears. How there were straps that would run around her head, over her mouth, over her eyes, sealing her in with locks and belts. How there was no other opening besides the holes for her to breath in her ultimate nightmare. She snapped with terror, bucking against her bonds with a fury she had never known. She twisted and tried to move away, sliding uselessly on the ground. She grunted negative sounds, shaking her head violently from side to side, drool flying outwards from her gagged mouth. Eastwick was amused by her reaction to the hood.
"So you are scared of this thing? Of it encasing your head, blocking out everything? You afraid of enclosed spaces? Can it be that the cities most heartless dominatrix is scared of being bound herself? Oh this could not be more perfect, could it." He grinned as wide as he could as he said this.
"Go ahead and stop me "Mistress Satine". You control men, you use them, you hurt them for your pleasure. Now all you have to do is order me to stop, to whip me for my disobedience. All you have to do is tell me what to do, and of course I will accept what my mistress command."
Satine stopped her frenzied struggling and stared at her captor, tears in her eyes, pleading with him as best she could. She wanted to promise him money, or to never report what had happened. She was willing to give him anything in her power to stop that helmet from being laced onto her. She groaned and mumbled in her gag, begging him to not do this.
"Whats that Mistress? You want this hot, leather hood on you? You want to see what its like to be so helpless, so confined, so you can understand what all those men felt like? Okay, your wish is my command."
The helmet was the type that laced up the back, and Eastwick had loosened the lacings enough that it could fit easily over Satines tear stained, pleading face. She screamed into the gag, shaking her head so violently that Eastwick feared that she might injure herself. Still he was enjoying the plaintive wails coming from her, the genuine fear that she was demonstrating. He had heard stories about how much Satine enjoyed taking away a mans very ability to be human, to turn them into faceless anonymous objects that she could then abuse sexually. Now he was very thrilled to find she feared this very thing, and it was the very thing that excited him most.
The helmet settled over her head, and Eastwick pulled it straight, so the nostril holes lined up properly. This was not easy, because Satines panic was somehow even increasing as the helmet was applied. As soon as the helmet fit properly, Eastwick pulled on the bottom of the lacings, and tightened the helmet. Any light that might have been getting through was instantly cut off, and now her head was encased in hot, thick leather. He slowly, with relish, tightened the lacings, each pull sealing poor Satine further in her own personal nightmare of claustrophobia. He desperate cries were further muffled by the leather over her mouth, and her ability to breath was so compromised by the tiny air holes, that despite her terror, she was losing the ability to fight. When Eastwick was satisfied that the lacings had absolutely no give left in them, he knotted them at the base of her neck. Then the attached straps were pulled around and also tightened with brutal efficiency. One over the eyes, one over her head and under her aching jaw. Finally the largest one, over her mouth and the ball that protruded from it. Her pathetic cries for mercy were now nothing more than almost silent useless mews.
"Most other times you are hooded, and you will be hooded for the rest of you life bitch, I will fill your ears with something, to take away your hearing. But I wanted you to hear what I was going to do with you, and to know how hopeless your chances of ever escaping are." Satine could do nothing more than sob helplessly over this information.
"I am putting a key lock on your helmet. You cannot get out of it, unless I want you out of it. I could let you go right now, and you would have no way to remove it from you." He explained to her, knowing that even over her soft, helpless crying, that she could still hear him. When Satine heard the lock click, a whole new round of panic fueled struggling began. She threw herself at her bonds, her arms twisting upward in the armbinder trying desperately to reach her encased head. This new bout of helpless struggles was too much for Eastwick. His dick already was harder than he had ever known it to be, and this perfectly bodied bitch in complete bondage had to be taken now. He glanced at his watch, saw that it was only 3:30 in the morning, and knew he had at least a half hour to indulge himself before he packed Satine away for shipping.
He picked her up, threw her over his shoulder casually, and carried her into the bedroom. She continued struggling the entire way, her oxygen deprivation fighting with her panic. He threw her on the king sized bed, and quickly stripped. He knew that there was no way she would have any lubrication in her state, but he was prepared, as he had oil to allow him to place a couple vibrators in her later.
"I wonder if you have ever allowed a man to fuck you before, Jennifer?" He asked. He purposely used her given name to debase her a bit more. "I bet you have saved that cunt of yours only for your girlfriends, and their tongues."
Satine knew what he was saying was true. She hated the idea of being penetrated by anything, and never used dildos in her sex play with her female partners. She was still, technically a virgin, since she had known from an early age that she found men repulsive. She was shocked to feel his cock on her sex, moving around over her, covered in oil. She screamed into her gag again, and tried to move away. Eastwick easily held her down, and pressed his dick against her opening. She could do nothing to stop him as he thrust his way in. Her nightmare somehow had managed to even get worse. Not only was she bound, and hooded in leather, but she was being raped by a man. Another wave of mindless panic overwhelmed her, as the horror of the situation became clear. Her bucking and terrified cries were only helping Eastwick though, as her own movements come faster and harder than any time in his entire life. He had never had an orgasm as complete as this one, and he actually lost conciseness for a brief second. He laid on Satine for a moment, reveling in her helpless, and the indecipherable sounds she was making. He grabbed her tits, enjoying their firmness and smooth skin. She continued trying to push him off her, without the use of legs or arms. Her sheer helplessness frustrating her. Her mind was shutting down, and she slowly began to breath normally, and quit fighting.
"Guess we need to get you packed up for the trip." Eastwick said, finally getting off her. He slipped his clothes back on, while Satine tried to pull her own legs up as she laid on her side on the bed, sobbing silently. Eastwick noticed her position and said. "Don't worry, you are about to be tied up in a nice, impossible to escape fetal position, put in a bag, and taken to my house. You might want to try to stretch out, instead of curling up in a ball like that, you wont be able to move at all in a couple minutes."
True to his word, within a few minutes, Satine was in an incredibly tight human ball. The first thing he had done was put a nice wide leather belt around her waist. He then attached, thick veiny vibrators to another strap, that attached to the tip of her armbinder, and using a liberal amount of lubricant, slid a six inch one in her unwilling ass, and a eight inch one up her cunt. Her struggles when this happened were admirable, but as always useless. The vibrators were immediately turned on, and they squirmed like giant worms inside her, offering no pleasure, only the humiliation of continually being raped in both her orifices by unfeeling plastic. Every movement of her arms now, only pushed the vibrators farther into her. She was losing more and more of her ability to move, with each application of bondage that he did on her. He then forced her to sit on her knees, and pushed her body down to her legs. Her breasts were pressed against her thighs. He had thought about applying some sort of breast bondage to those amazing tits, but he did not want to cause any permanent damage, at least not yet, and breasts being bound for hours without any supervision could damage them. There would be endless time to apply clamps, ropes and wire to them later.
He had threaded a thin belt behind her knees, then this belt ran over her shoulders, and was tightened. This held her chest tightly against her thighs. More belts ran around the legs and waist, and also her ankles and lower back. She could not move her arms or legs at all now, reduced to the twitching of her feet moving back and forth in helplessness. Finally he ran a strap from a metal grommet at the top of her helmeted head, and slowly pulled it down between her legs, until her head was forced to jam itself onto her knees. He then connected that final strap to her armbinder, and left her on the bed, laying on her side. She was completely helpless now, unable to even struggle in her panic.
He brought back in the large athletic bag he had used to carry the bondage gear that she wore to her house. With a lot of work, he was able to slide her inside of it, and zip it almost completely closed. He did not care that it would be almost impossible to breath in her position with her mouth filled with rubber and her face covered in leather. If she passed out it would be a blessing for her.
He made a walk through the house, making sure that there was no evidence left that he had ever been here. He put the extra handcuffs and tape he had brought in pockets in his leather coat. There was no evidence at all that he had ever been there. He had touched nothing without gloves on, and no part of his skin or hair had dropped off, as he had shaved himself before he had left the house. It was entirely possible that an eyelash or something had fallen off somewhere, but the chances of it ever being connected to him were almost impossible. He had no criminal record, and absolutely no connection to the slut Satine. He went back to the bedroom, and without a large amount of effort was able to lift her in the bag off the bed, and throw the straps over his shoulders. He could feel her feet trying to twist and move against his back, but he could hardly hear her at all anymore with so many things in and over her mouth. He stopped to pick up Satines keys, ripped clothes and wallet, that were on the floor where he had left them, then set the alarm for the house, locking the door behind him. There was not only no evidence that he had ever been there, there was no proof that she had ever made it home herself. He strolled into the dark, straight to the garage. The keys opened the side door to the garage, and also allowed him to disable the car alarm and open the trunk. He placed Satine into the trunk of her own car, thinking that she should be thankful that the late model Peugeut she owned had a big trunk. He slammed the trunk down, got into the car, used the garage door opener on the visor and then easily backed out. He sped off down the driveway, to meet up with roads and highways that would lead him to his own house. That house had been set up for the last year with a basement designed for one thing only. To hold Satine, the Dominatrix for the rest of her life in perfect bondage. He would take her home, make sure she was secured, then take her car to a public parking lot near a train station. He would lock the car, and throw the keys away in the river, take the train home, and begin his experimenting with his new toy. He wondered how she would react to mummification? Or being buried alive? Being encased in full body rubber sheaths, with a pump gag in her mouth, her breasts wrapped with rubber bands and her ears filled with putty. All these thoughts flowed through his brain, as the miles between her house and his changed.
In the trunk, Satine was in a constant state of fear and panic. She was completely incapable of any rational thought. She knew on some level that she was in the trunk of her own car, and that any chance of being rescued were drifting away with every moment. She felt the panic come back upon her, and she twisted and screamed some more into her perfect bondage. If she had known what laid in store for her in the very near future, should would have been even more terrified and desperate. Either way, there was nothing she could do, and her life was no longer her own. The rest of her miserable life was to be spent, bound, gagged, and helpless, a sex toy, a non person.