Dr. Winthrop Samuels Series

Chapter Two-4

I laugh.

“You don’t have to offer, Sunny. You’ll so serve at my whim.”

Though disappointed with Sunny’s bashfulness, I remind myself that arroycoo is the intended result of my many weeks of effort. And ironically, if Sunny thinks such will be furtively executed, the slow torment offered in seclusion, she is wrong.

I have purchased a set of wheels for the framework. Easily attached to the corners of the seven by three steel fabrication, Sunny’s protestations, however heartrendingly meek and beseeching, will be for naught when I decide to place her in suspension.

As we near the building entrance, I move to walk to her side. A hand finds her finely shaped buttocks. Pertly shaped by the grommets I assess as my leash hand assures she keeps stepping. Firm, the impinged muscles strain, yet Sunny has learned to control without triggering spasms. An excellent result, for in suspending her, such concentration and control will be a challenge.

I am cheered to see for the first time that a neighbor enters the building lobby just before us. Sunny slows in an attempt to avoid the woman. The conniving minx knows that delay will cause us to miss the elevator.

That will not do. I pull with zeal.

“Come, Sunny. I will introduce you.”

“Please no, not like this.”

“You prefer when naked? I can invite her to your loft, strip you and explain to the woman all about her aberrant neighbor Sunny Sudenskaya. Do so as you suck my penis.”

Sunny glumly follows the leash knowing she cannot resist. Our timing proves to be sufficient. The creaking door announces our approach and the neighbor turns to observe our entrance.

A woman nearing fifty, she is tall and though not plump, broad in stature. Hair somewhat graying she shows no sign of surprise as I lead and my leashed minx follows. The tight garment, gaudily red, the clunking shoes, the woman peers down and even the small padlocks securing the straps do not elicit a reaction of disapproval.

This could be fortuitous.

I pull Sunny adjacent as the elevator grinds to greet us.

“New York certainly offers opportunities, doesn’t it? Where else can you walk a slut on a leash and not earn the revulsion of your neighbors,” the woman pleasantly offers in breaking the ice.

She smiles warmly. Sunny looks down in shame.

“Yes, she is a slut. The girl sucked her way across Europe. Quite an accomplished fellatrix,” I respond in prompting further discourse.

“A good reason to keep her leashed,” the woman snickers.

The elevator arrives. I help in parting the heavy doors. The woman insists we enter first. I lead, Sunny follows, the woman steps in last. By rote Sunny struggles to kneel, she cannot bend at the waist thus I must assist. Well trained, she ignores the woman’s presence in knowing how I want her to ride... at my feet.

“Yes, a slut but well tamed. Whatever is on her back?”

As described the tight garment reveals the many bumps of the grommets. Eight pair plus those perched atop her buttocks.

“I have her corseted. Rather strict, but the posture is greatly improved and the sense of complete control is welcomed by a girl of her ilk.”

The neck collar shows and the woman notes the cord disappearing at the neckline. I cannot resist leaning down and grasping the lower hem... at the back. Sunny shuts her eyes in horror as I fold upwards and reveal her grommeted cheeks, the opposing end of the corset cord tightly tied to keep constant tension on the glutei and align the spinal grommets.

The woman stares, but not in shock or fright. It is a look of true inquisitiveness and examination.

“Yes, strict,” she remarks in agreement. “Just as a girl like her deserves.”

“Lean forward, Sunny, show the woman how the grommets work.”

“I cannot, sir. It hurts.”

“Lean! Tighten the corset cord.”

She obeys of course. Despite her pleas, the pain oddly welcomed by a deviant mind. Sunny’s psyche senses that punishment is needed. Retribution for exposing herself to the unknown woman.

The cord tightens and further stresses the gluteus maximus muscles. There comes the expected spasms and cramping. Sunny grimaces. The woman smiles.

“The tramp seems to enjoy pain. She’s wet.”

Yes the woman has quite the observant eye, spying a trickle of feminine essence on the inner thigh... emanating from the sopping wet quim of my leashed plaything. Sunny shudders in intense shame.

The elevator stops on the fourth floor.

“I get off here. Do let me know when you walk her again.”

Before working the elevator doors, I reach down and pull the cocktail dress, peeling upwards and also righting Sunny so she returns to kneeling upright. My quick handiwork fully exposes those firm upstanding breasts, the thin garment gathered at her shoulders. The woman turns and smiles most wickedly, watching my nearly naked plaything as I labor to open the heavy doors. She then steps off and mockingly waves as Sunny kneels in tears of shame.

“I am Mrs. Anderson.”

“This is Sunny,” refraining from identifying myself.

I close the doors with deliberation as Mrs. Anderson clucks her tongue.

***

Though several days pass and Sunny is walked both indoors and out, I note that without the high heels she cannot walk completely normally. The Achilles heel grommets will not permit full flexibility of the tendons and therefore it is painfully impossible for Sunny to straighten her feet. Thus when led about the loft naked and leashed, she remains somewhat on toes... truly appearing as a ballerina as she prances about.

Outdoors she wears her clunky shoes, heels high, perching her on toes and relieving the tightness of the soleus and gastrocnemius muscles.

Despite the constriction, it is not detrimental to arroycoo and I decide that we have afforded enough aftercare. Enough recovery and acclimation.

It is time.

On Thursday evening I bathe and massage, Sunny bound to the tub as always. I also shave her, her entire form blushing as she spreads and exposes all. When Louise returns from her shift sometime near midnight she finds Sunny busy fellating me. Louise just smiles and gives me that matronly look, a mother catching her son getting into the cookie jar.

“You put the frame on wheels,” she notes.

I nod then close my eyes as a goodly load of semen gushes into Sunny’s throat.

“We’ll need some mobility while she hangs.”

“Yes, I signed the lease on the loft downstairs,” Louise thinking as do I.

Saving time, I arise and zip, a chore normally reserved for Sunny’s teeth and lips.

“Good. You must meet Mrs. Anderson sometime. Quite an imposing woman.”

I take the leash. Sunny rises, certain movements still awkward such as shifting weight from her knees to her feet and legs. She winces as the impinged muscles cramp. Then she mentally brings control in new found concentration which has required days to develop.

“Over here, my pretty pet.”

To the frame, Sunny knows to stand within. With her humility, she speaks less and less, the constant bondage seeming to immerse her submissive psyche into another world.

“Now it is important that your weight be evenly distributed, Sunny,” I lecture as I begin.

Nose leash first, as always it is tied to the front bar. Then her elbows are freed and I introduce a new dynamic to how Sunny Sudenskaya will be kept cruelly suspended. I have purchased bungee cords. Strong... elastic... such will provide Sunny with a range of motion which will both entertain and permit some relief to muscles which will be long held immobile.

So it’s the right elbow, then left and the limited length forces the arms high and Sunny to bend at the waist. Next comes a long corset cord. Front bar, then through the eight pairs of grommets, then loosely connected to the rear bar.

Bungee cords right then left, are hooked through the buttock grommets. I watch as tension there brings the expected contraction and cramping... which Sunny admirably brings under control.

“This will be most painful, Sunny. I will work quickly, but the initial suspension will not have you balanced.”

She nods as best she can and with that I lift her right foot quite high, hook a short bungee cord through the grommet and connect it to the side bar above. She grimaces then moans as I repeat the process with the left foot and ankle grommet.

For the first time, Sunny is completely suspended, no part of her anatomy touching the floor. With much weight borne by the buttock and Achilles grommets I work to tighten the corset cord, shifting weight to the flesh of her spine. In doing so, Sunny works to relax, trying desperately to stop the intense cramping.

“You’ll find, Sunny, over time, that remaining completely motionless is best. The slightest movement will bring a cascade of cramps.”

Louise looks on in fascination. The naked form of Sunny Sudenskaya hangs horizontally. The corset cord, Sunny’s weight making it tauter than ever, forces a presentation of her breasts that we have not before seen. Cow’s udders more than mammary glands, such are deliciously exposed and vulnerable. The short bungee cords used for the Achilles heel grommets part her calves at the width of the frame... three feet. The buttock grommets pull outward towards the sides to open the gluteal cleft. Thus it is not only the breasts which invite visual examination. Sunny is held spread, the rose bud of her anus, the pink slit of her love sheath beckoning the voyeur.

“How do you feel, Sunny?”

“I cannot move. It hurts.”

“I assume it is a sensation that you desire. Complete control of your body, ceded to your superiors. Is there any one binding which hurts more than others? I want uniformity. The stress to be felt over your entire body.”

“My nose, sir. The nose cord is most painful.”

“Oh my. That will divert your thoughts.”

I move to Sunny’s head, grasp hair at the back of her head and gently lift, momentarily relieving the tension of the nose cord.

“Well this won’t do. She can’t comfortably lie straining to hold up her head. And the nose grommet stresses too many nerves,” I think out loud and to Louise.

“So use her hair... just as you’re doing now.”

I look at Louise. Such a thought. She steps to the bathroom and returns with scissors.

“She’ll need to have more of a pony tail. It will be quicker to bind her.”

I nod. When placing Sunny in arroycoo suspension I’ll not want to fiddle with hair. Something there needs to be at the ready.

“We’ll leave just enough to gather into a short pony tail and knot a steel ring into it,” Louise announces in snapping the shears.

“No, please, not my hair!” Sunny mourns.

“You’ll be more comfortable.”

I continue to hold the desired clump at the back and top of Sunny’s head. Louise begins to shear, cutting away huge clumps as Sunny strains against her bonds in protest. She hurts herself in so doing, learning for her own the physical cost of motion. Within moments, Sunny’s head is relatively bald except for the comical pony tail in my grasp. It is amazing how quickly one can be shorn when style is not of concern.

“I’ll shave away the stubble in the morning,” Louise announces. “Shampooing will be much easier.

“And I’ll make a matching ring of nickel cobalt.”

“Meanwhile...” Louise announces in holding up a rubber band.

I smile with her prevenience and work to encircle the remaining clump with the rubber band. I knot then stretch a cord from the right side bar though the rubber band to the left side bar. I tighten to adjust. Sunny, for some reason, does not seem grateful in relieving the tension on her nose leash.

While we have worked, Sunny has lain prostrate, dangling from the many cords looped through her grommets. The clock suggests some twenty minutes have passed since I lifted her left foot and placed her in arroycoo... my form of arroycoo.

“That does it, Sunny. Your desired scenario.”

I reach beneath and caress left breast then right. As noted such are irresistibly presented and I can only imagine what fun Louise will be having. But my touch is soothing and therefore welcome. Such will be the unexpected results of the extended bondage and suspension. Sunny’s nervous system will become more receptive to touch and attention, pining for that normally taken for granted.

“It’s late, Louise. She’s all yours.”

“You’re going to leave her like this?”

I shrug and smooth a hand over her fine buttocks, distended by the grommets and elastic bungee cords.