The Water Chair
By Luckycat 2005
He was astounded! To think that all of the exquisitely made bondage furniture in this room had been designed and built by this slender and attractive young woman.
As the two continued along on their strange tour he appraised her discreetly. She was very Goth to be sure, but she lacked the usual bleary-eyed, drugged-up, grubby appearance that many of the genre display.
She was of diminutive stature, perhaps five feet at most, and possessed one of those athletic and perfectly shaped size zero bodies.
Her straight, raven black hair was cut dramatically short, although oddly on her it didn’t seem the least bit masculine. In fact, both her hair and the severe black and gray outfit she wore made her somehow appear even more feminine and desirable.
They stood facing a wonderfully detailed bondage horse that was richly inlayed with some highly grained and vibrant wood. He slid his hand along the sooth almost sensual surface.
“The inlay is Brazilian walnut,” she said in response to his unspoken thought. “I like to use different beautiful woods to ornament and enhance my designs. Please note that I disdain the use of cheap soft woods such as pine or spruce in the construction of my pieces, I use only grain matched oak and enhanced with other hardwoods.”
She gazed at him in a cool aloof, manner as though she were taking his measure.
He certainly had to admire the beauty of the thing.
“Why did you choose that particular color of leather for the seat?” He asked.
“Well for me, this cordovan color blends more sweetly with the brown tones of the wood, in fact I almost never use black leather unless a client expressly requests it.”
Surprised, he replied; “I guess I never really thought much about it, but then one does usually associate the color black with most bondage items.”
Her eyes narrowed as she considered this. “I strongly feel that the color black in the bondage sense is the color of the Dominant and not the submissive. The submissive should never share in the power of the Dominant, but be relegated to a lower position and hence a color of lower order.”
‘God,’ he thought, ‘this girl has her stuff together! Agree or disagree, she’s thought this out on a level I’ve never even considered.’ His respect and attraction to her was growing by the moment.
*
He smiled to himself thinking how only a few hours ago that he had had no idea that anything like this store or this Goth girl even existed. Although a relatively new initiate to the bondage scene per say, he had never really considered that there were actually people of passion out there who could enhance the fetish to such an extreme.
That afternoon while passing time on the computer he had done a search for bondage equipment and had been surprised to find so many people making a career of it. He was even more surprised to find that there was actually a store doing business in his own city specializing in of all things, bondage furniture!
Late in the winter afternoon on a whim of the moment he had driven to the address listed on the web page and had thus made the acquaintance of this strange but lovely Gothic girl.
It had been close to five when he arrived and he had nervously apologized for coming so close to closing. But she had smiled and said that she normally kept very late hours. Tonight however, she had to attend a college course, but that wasn’t until seven O’clock and she had plenty of time to show him her creations. She had asked in her surprisingly low alto voice, “Would you care to take a tour?”
*
“Notice if you will,” she said with obvious pride, “My use of stainless steel for the wrist and ankle stocks. Machined to thousands of an inch each ringed steel insert is precisely contoured for fit and comfort and also serves to call attention to the openings.
“Some people like padded stocks, but then some people like fuzzy handcuffs too.” She gave a dismissive laugh and smiled. Her smile suddenly faded. “I take my creations as serious as I take my own sexuality, and to me nothing is as confining and erotic as wood and steel against skin.”
He wondered exactly what her sexuality involved?
She stepped quickly to a nearby wall and returned with a glistening wooden device that proved to be beautifully made wrist stocks. “Place your wrists in here for a moment.” she said, staring at him directly with a slight trace of mirth in her eyes.
He felt a bit apprehensive but did as she requested.
“Of course,” She said, “The fit will not be exact, each of my creations is made to order and I’m always most careful to insure a precise fit!”
She joined the stocks that snapped together neatly and securely without the use of a lock. His wrists were of average size and fit almost perfectly within the oval shaped openings.
He felt no discomfort as the wood and steel closed to securely entrap his wrists, and not surprisingly he felt himself becoming quickly erect. Blushing, he tried to hide the fact.
Her eyes flicked down to his waist for an instant as smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “I can see that it does.” she said.
His blush deepened.
She then produced a thin steel pin, which she inserted into a concealed hole in the side of the stocks. She hesitated for just an instant, a small private smile on her face, then gave the pin a quick push. He was free.
‘She enjoyed that!’ He thought.
“Is there anything here that especially catches you eye?” She said waving a slender hand with beautifully polished black nails towards the length of the room.
He gazed along the various constructions in the long narrow room like a child in a candy store. At last his eyes fell upon an item in the far corner. “What’s that?” he asked pointing, “Some sort of bondage chair?” He turned to face her. “It appears to be very unusual.”
Her eyes never left his as she replied; “It is quite unique, and if I may say so, rather special. Would you care to take a closer look?”
He followed her as she led the way to the rear of the store. Waving an outstretched arm she said; “I think that this may be my finest creation yet, a thing of beauty and purpose: the Water Chair!”
*
The item she presented was indeed a chair, but one unlike any he had before seen. As were most of the other pieces displayed in the room it was constructed of sturdy stained oak but possessed less of the fine ornamentation evidenced by some of the others. It had the curious quality of seeming massive yet delicate at the same time.
The chair stood on four strong oak legs and was only about twenty inches wide. The back was incredibly high, perhaps five feet tall, but narrow, only about eight inches wide.
Both the seat and seatback were thickly padded and upholstered with cordovan leather. The seatback was unusually contoured to support the small of the back and neck areas. There were no armrests and obviously none were needed as evidenced by the two solid looking wooden stocks that protruded from either side of the seatback.
A single hole had been designed into the center of the padded leather seat. At the rear of the hole a small single stock was mounted. The purpose of this puzzled him for a moment until he realized that it had been designed to confine a man’s penis. Somehow the chair seemed radiate a beautiful, albeit evil presence.
A large wooden stock that was obviously intended to confine the victim’s ankles leaned against an adjoining wall and he puzzled as to how it might be fitted to the chair.
“How does that big stock…?”
“There are many rather interesting special features of the Water Chair.” she interrupted with a mysterious smile. “The only way for one to truly appreciate them is to experience them for yourself first hand.” She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow questioningly.
“Are…are you suggesting that I should try the chair right now?
She continued to stare at him, clearly expecting an answer and not a question.
“I mean…uh…wouldn’t I have to, well…undress to get into it?” He asked nervously.
“To experience it properly, of course.” she replied as a matter of fact. “I have a feeling that my Water Chair might be exactly what you are looking for.”
“Well, maybe but…I mean, this is a public place, and I don’t see…” He hunted for the right words.
“That’s not a problem.” She said calmly. “I’m sure that you represent my last customer for the evening, and I can lock the front door. No one will see you or interrupt us if you want to take a little test-drive. That is…if you’re really interested?”
‘Hell’, he thought, ‘am I ever!’
Not only had she presented the chair in a manner far beyond simple good salesmanship, but she also had created an air of mystery that would be hard for any curious man to refuse. And if he trusted his feelings he sensed that she had presented the offer as a kind of challenge, and he certainly didn’t want to appear a coward in the eyes of this talented woman to whom he was obviously very attracted.
The Water Chair itself was whispering to him in an undeniably erotic way, and that this might be his only chance to experience it’s secrets. Besides, trying out the chair that he probably couldn’t afford anyway presented a very convenient way for him to spend more time with this intriguing woman.
Gathering his strength he said; “Well sure…I mean…I really am interested, that is if you’re sure that you have the time...”
“Oh, I have the time.” She said. For a brief second her eyes darted once again to his waist. “Just wait here while I go lock-up, and I’ll return…” She smiled. “And…Lock you up!” She gave him a playful poke with her finger.
‘Great!’ He thought, ‘I just hope I know what I’m getting myself into!’
*
The Goth girl’s store was divided into two long narrow sections. Patrons could escape the winter snows by entering into the windowed left section where they would discover a complete leather shop containing many interesting bondage items as well as a few of her smaller wooden creations.
Descending down several steps into the right they would find a narrow richly carpeted room with uniformly painted black walls. Here in neat rows she displayed the many examples of her furniture creations that were dramatically lighted by overhead spotlights.
He watched her slim, lithe body recede toward the front of the store while he nervously began to remove his coat and shirt. The feel of the cool air on his bare chest made him pause momentarily as he undressed. Alone and in this strange situation his apprehension had doubled.
He was startled when he suddenly he heard her voice beside him. “Well?” she said quietly, “What are you waiting for?”
“I guess I’m a little nervous,” He admitted.
“Relax.” She said with a broad smile. “I can assure you that in this business I tend to see a few naked men from time to time, it’s one of the perks of the job.” She winked looking incredibly cute.
Feeling somewhat foolish but relieved by this good-natured remark he quickly finished undressing and then standing nude before her awaited her instructions.
“Hey!” she said pointing to his feet. “You forgot the socks! Off! I don’t think that you can fully appreciate your Water Chair experience with your socks on!”
Embarrassed, he did as she demanded and quickly followed her next instruction, which was to be seated in the chair.
The Goth girl stepped behind the chair and gently pulling his arms to his sides placed them in the stocks then locking them securely in place at his wrists and above his elbows. These proved to be incredibly restrictive but not too terribly uncomfortable. He sat confined with his arms now straight down by his sides.
He enjoyed the feeling of confinement and had become somewhat more relaxed knowing that he had freely made the decision to go through with this. Besides, he had passed the point of no return and was totally in her power. Whatever happened next was up to her.
She surprised him by pulling out several large brown leather straps that had been concealed behind the rear of the chair. These she encircled around his chest and stomach. He heard a soft ratcheting sound from behind his back as in turn each strap quickly tightened pulling his waist and torso snuggly against the backrest.
She then produced a strong steel collar, which she fitted around his neck. Pushing his head firmly against the backrest he felt some unseen mechanism lock the collar securely in place. He noted with relief that the contoured leather seatback supported his neck and spine in perfect comfort.
Seated and unable to move his neck more that a fraction of an inch he now observed that there were two slots, one on each side of the chair where the arm rests would normally be. He puzzled as to their purpose, but the answer was forthcoming.
“Pull you legs up while I mount the stock in place.” She directed.
Quickly obeying he brought his legs up as instructed with his feet resting on the edge of the seat. He liked her quiet but commanding tone as she gave him orders.
She picked up the ankle stock and positioned it carefully into the slots and pushed it down until a soft click was heard. She patted the stock to indicate that he should place his ankles in the two semi-circles that were about a foot apart. Lifting his legs high so that his knees nearly touched his chest he quickly complied.
The top of the stock was lowered and again a soft click could be heard as the two pieces that formed the stock become one. He noted with admiration that when closed how the bold grain of the two halves matched perfectly having been apparently cut from a single piece of wood.
‘God, what a perfectionist!’ He thought. ‘What a total detail fanatic she is! I wonder if she would be as demanding of a lover as she is of her furniture?’
She stood back to survey her work when she suddenly grinned.
“Oh My!”
Worried, he asked; “What’s wrong?”
“Why nothings wrong,” She said with a look of awe in her face. “It’s just that you sir, have an absolutely amazing pair of feet!”
“What do you mean,” he laughed, “Are they to big or something?”
“Not at all, it’s just that they’re beautiful, very masculine and smooth. I’ve never seen such perfect toes and nails.”
She smiled broadly and shook her head slightly, seeming to consider something. She continued to admire at his feet for several moments longer before stepping aside to return with something in her hands.
“Now, I think that you’ll really enjoy this part.” She said with a curious smile.
Easily reaching between his elevated legs she attached the upper part of the small penis stock to the lower one. Although the steel collar prevented him from looking down to see he could feel that it was located towards the end on his penis, just behind the head. Carefully she pressed down until the now familiar click was heard.
“That should keep you from misbehaving.” She said shaking her finger and giving him a mock scolding look. “With that in place, you’ll find that you can become incredibly excited but will be completely unable to achieve an ejaculation. More importantly, it keeps the head of your penis trapped exactly where I want it.” She reached to lightly stroked the head of his penis with her forefinger and thumb for a moment, instantly causing him to harden.
“I see that your are enjoying your test-ride already.” She said lifting one black eyebrow. “But wait, were not done yet!”
Again she stepped aside to return a moment later with several other small items, which he couldn’t see well enough to identify. These she fitted into the top front of the stocks slightly to the inside of each ankle. He tried to comprehend what she was up to, but when he felt each big toe being encircled with some type of strap he knew exactly what she intended. She finished tightening down the toe clamps and asked; “How does that feel?”
“Tight!” He replied.
“Good, try wiggling your feet.”
He did as instructed and was horrified to find that not even the slightest movement of either foot was possible. He could wiggle his eight free toes slightly, but his heels, soles and big toes were totally immobilized. For some reason, he couldn’t fathom this fact seemed to greatly frighten him.
“The toe clamps are my own design.” she stated proudly, “Two steel dowels mounted in the stock to are attached to concave wooden saddles that support the base of your big toes. The leather straps enclose them to hold them rigidly tight.”
“Shit!” He said thought clenched teeth.”
She glanced at him, then back at his toes and seeming to admire her work. “By the way,” She said, “You have failed to ask a rather pertinent question.”
Still attempting to wiggle the toes without success, he said, “I did? What?”
Smiling evilly, she leaned over the stocks, her face scant inches from his and whispered in a mysterious voice; “You failed to ask why I’ve named this the Water chair!”
*
Trying to avoid her penetrating glare, he stammered; “Well…I guess…I guess that it didn’t occur to me that…” The first real feeling of unease had begun to stir within him.
She laughed. That’s too bad because it should have occurred to you, for it’s the most important aspect of the chairs entire concept.” Now, you’ll have to learn it’s meaning the hard way.” She added obliquely, “But perhaps it will be an aspect that you’ll enjoy learning!”
Stepping behind the chair she brought out two wide plastic wastebaskets. One of these she slid beneath the chair, the other she placed on the floor in front below his feet.
Once more she moved behind the chair. She had only been gone for a few seconds when he heard a sound above his head. Rolling his eyes upward he watched as a thin copper pipe advanced forward from the top of the seatback to overhang the ankle stock. The half inch wide tube split into a tee in at the front where it connected with two shorter pieces about four inches in length.
Although he couldn’t twist his head enough to see, he sensed that she was somehow attaching the tube to the top of the chairs back.
Next he heard the unmistakable sound of water filling the pipe. She returned to face him. “Now then my fine-footed friend, are you prepared to really experience the chair’s full potential?”
Without awaiting his reply she reached up and made some adjustment to one end of the pipe. Immediately water drops began to fall striking his left foot. She made some further adjustments and soon the drips were falling precisely on the tip of his left big toe.
In a moment she had done the same to the other end of the pipe and the water was assaulting both big toes simultaneously.
“The origins of this design,” She said professorially, are of course based on what is commonly and incorrectly I might add called the Chinese water-torture.”
“Shit!” He muttered.
“I have done some rather extensive research, both theoretical and practical, and have determined the ideal volume and duration between the drips of water. You’ll find that the tips of your big toes are especially receptive to this form of persuasion!”
‘Gee,’ he thought. ‘Do you suppose there’ll be a pop quiz on this tomorrow? This is one clever woman and she seems to be really enjoying this.’
“How does it feel?” She asked.
“God! It’s starting to get to me already, I hope you’re not planning on leaving me in this thing very long!”
She didn’t reply and only continued to stare at his feet.
He wiggled his big toes, trying to avoid the constant avalanche, but it was futile, the small stocks held each toe rigidly. Relentlessly, the drops of water continued to fall, drip after drip, striking the tip of both toes just under his toenails.
She winked. “And last, but not least…!”
She reached again to the tube and once again a rhythmic cascade of water drops began to fall, but this time it was directly onto the head of his penis.
“Bull’s-eye!” She said.
“Hey! Wait!” He said trying unsuccessfully to look down.
Through half closed eyes she said, “Relax. All you have to do is just sit there and enjoy the little torments my Water Chair will now share with you.”
“Looks like I don’t have much choice.” He said.
“No, you don’t!”
The feeling of intense confinement was overwhelming but very erotic. However the water-torture had been totally unsuspected and was quickly proving to be incredibly maddening. His heart raced, but he tried to be calm himself as he considered his helpless situation.
“Oh God,” He stammered, “That actually hurts a bit, I don’t think that I can take it much longer, I think that you had better let me out now.”
“There’s no way that water can harm you.” She said. “Dropped from that height it might feel a bit intense at first, but you have my complete assurance that after a few minutes…” She giggled. “It will soon get much worse!”
At that moment the store telephone rang. “Oh, oh!” She said, “Bad timing, but I’d better see who it is.” She walked off smiling and clicking her tongue.
He had scarcely listened to her words for the ceaseless drops of water were demanding his full attention. His penis had already been firm as the result of her touch but now it was quickly becoming painfully swollen under the unrelenting barrage form above. He began to pant, alternately crying out and laughing. “OH MY GOD!” he said with a nervous laugh, “Can we talk this over…HELLO?”
Only a few minutes had passed before the Goth girl returned carrying a towel under her arm. But to him it had it seemed hours.
She moved behind the chair and a few seconds later the maddening water drops had slowed then mercifully stopped.
Returning to the front, she began to dry the soles of his feet with the soft towel.
“Sorry for the interruption.” She said. “Change of plans. The phone call was from a classmate who just discovered that there’s going to be a test tonight. Duh! She wants me to meet her in the library before class to help her cram. “What…a…shame” She said, and made a pouting face.” I never had a chance to enjoy these beautiful feet.”
‘Whew!’ he thought, beginning to relax a bit. ‘Saved by the school bell. Thank God for the ditsy friend!’
He then made the biggest mistake of his life.
Suddenly he jerked a little out and blurted out, “Uh…be careful with that towel please, my feet are a little ticklish.”
She met his gaze for a moment before her eyes flicked back down to his trapped feet. Reaching out with both hands, she slowly began to slowly rake her fingernails along the length of both soles.
“Is that right?” She said, a look of pleasant surprise dawning on her face. “So, these beautiful feet are a little ticklish are they?”
“AAAAAWWW” he cried. ”HEY! That really tickles! STOP! GOD! PLEASE STOP! My feet are incredibly sensitive!
“Really?” She asked. “Are you sure?” Her slow torture never faltered. ”We’d better test them to find out. Maybe you’re just imagining it?”
She had the perfect touch with those long black nails. Not too hard, not too soft, just enough pressure to cause the greatest possible sensation.
The torment continued.
“No I’m Not…AAAAAWWW…STOP! PLEASE!…HA HA HA HA!
“Well I’ll be damned!” she cooed.
“WHAT?” he yelled gasping for breath as her fingers explored and found new and even more responsive areas of his feet.
“I suspected as much, you are one of those!” She stated with assurance.
“ONE OF THOSE…AAAAWWWW…THOSE WHAT?” He shrieked
“One of those men who are sexually aroused by tickle torture.” She said simply. She stopped stroking the soles of his feet, and placing her hands on the ankle stock grinned down at him like the cat that had swallowed the canary. “Have a little foot-fetish problem do we?”
“No….No…I’m not, really, I don’t…”
“Don’t lie to me, of course you do.” She stated simply and shrugged. “With the collar on I realize that you can’t see what’s happening between you legs right at this moment, but let me assure you that your cock is telling me the true story. It’s been throbbing up and down with every stroke of my fingernails upon your soles.” She smiled and began the torment again, studying his lap and smiling.
Totally panicked now he said; “NO! That’s not it, it’s just that…I…well.”
“Oh come on,” she laughed. “What’s the big deal? Why can’t you just admit it? Either you’re just being just stubborn, embarrassed and afraid to tell me, or…?” She paused. “Could it be that maybe you really don’t know? Her hands stopped their movement. “Hmmm…”
Leaning against the foot stock with her elbows, she supported her head with her slender arms and appeared deep in thought.
Except for some baroque chamber music that played quietly from an overhead speaker the room was silent as she stared at him, thinking.
Then at last she nodded as if having made an important decision. “Please understand that I can’t serve you properly as a customer, or…a friend, if you won’t tell me your honest desires. I think the time has come for some straight talk.”
“Okay.” He said. “So let me out and we’ll talk.”
She smirked. “Unfortunately, right now I don’t have the time to spare.”
He smiled and winked. “I’ll give you a rain check.”
She was silent for a moment more as they stared silently into each other’s eyes.
“Well then, it’s decided!” She said with authority. “You leave me no choice. You’ll just have to stay right where you are in my chair’s loving embrace.”
“What!!” He stammered.
“After my class is over we’ll have all the time we need to talk about this issue and try to arrive at the truth.”
“NO!!” He gasped. “I don’t think that I could…”
“OH YES!” She said leaning close to his face. “I…SAID…IT’S BEEN DECIDED!”
“But…”
“Now the only question is how can I keep you quiet for a couple of hours?” Her face brightened as a thought formed in her mind. “I know! I have just the thing!” She winked, “Now don’t go away, I’ll be right back.”
She trotted off returning almost immediately with something in her hand. “This” She said, “Is what had just finished making when you arrived tonight; It’s my latest design and the first one I have ever made with a side zipper. I call it ‘the deprivation cocoon’” She winked. “And I think you’ll find the name most appropriate.”
With obvious pride she held out a sinister looking leather hood in front of him to examine. Had he been a little less terrified at that moment he might have remarked on how beautifully it was made.
The hood was made of heavy brown leather and had a silver zipper running completely down one side. Four small rivets formed the eye and nostril openings, and as she held it open for his inspection he could see a leather gag that had been sewn inside.
Holding the hood open invitingly, she stepped to one side of the chair, her intention obvious.
“NO! WAIT! Please don’t put that thing on me, I promise that I’ll be quiet! He cried.
“And I’m sure that your promises are good too.” She smirked, “But I know only too well the effect this chair can have on a man, and with your ticklish feet I can predict with the most absolute assurance that you will yell!
Without further word, she quickly slipped the hood over his head. He tried to resist but with his neck so tightly secured by the collar it was but a simple task for her to push it on and tug it into place.
Momentarily blinded, he made the mistake of opening his mouth to protest, but before he could utter a single word he felt the leather gag slide neatly in place above is tongue.
He heard the sound of the zipper in his left ear as she tugged it closed. As the sounds in the room slowly faded the hood became very tight and incredibly confining.
Reflexively, he had closed his eyes as she had forced the hood down over his head, but now upon opening them he found that he could see fairly well through the two small eyeholes. Excited, his heart pounded, his breaths came in short, fast pants.
He discovered that in addition to the nostril holes the gag had also been made with an air tube. Although restricted, breathing would not too be too difficult if he could just remain calm.
From within the hood her voice sounded, strange, soft and distant. “There, that should prevent any passerby’s from getting nosey!” She said admiring her work.
“I have enough problems in this business with those foolish religious types, I don’t need some John Q. to go and call the police on me as well.”
His forehead was pulled firmly back against the seat back as she cinched some unseen leather strap tightly.
“MMMUUMMFFTT” He said trying to speak and failing miserably.
“MMMUUMMFFTT yourself.” She said mockingly. Then leaning close so that he could hear her, she said, “With that gag in you mouth, no one can hear you. So I’d save my voice if I were you.”
“MMMUUMMFFTT” He said.
“When I get back we’re going to have a nice long talk about your foot-fetish.” She began to slowly stroke his soles again causing him to make little pleading sounds from inside the leather “deprivation cocoon.”
“Trust me, I know that if you explore your erotic desires honestly you’ll feel much better by being able to come to terms with yourself. Remember, It is vitally important that we acknowledge and accept those unique differences, which comprise our true erotic being. For only then can we be truly free.”
He sat considering her words while trying to fight back his rising panic.
“Now I really need to run…but what am I forgetting?” She smiled. “Oh, of course!”
The maddening tickling stopped and a moment later the three water drops began to fall once again.
With her voice next to his ear she whispered, “Think about what I said while you spend the next few hours witnessing your own torture.” Licking off a water drop with her tongue, she kissed a big toe. “Mmmm…” She remarked, smiling to herself.
*
Although from inside his leather thick hood he couldn’t hear her leave he sensed that she had gone and that he was now completely alone!
His pulse raced and his breathing came in rapid pants. Now, he had to quickly come to grips with this situation or he knew that he might pass out. Filling his lungs as much air as was possible within the tight chest straps he forced himself to try to relax.
In a few minutes his heart rate had slowed somewhat and his breathing became more regular. Trying to calm himself he listened to the sound of his breath as it softly whistled in an out through the hoods small nostril holes.
He sat in the chair totally immobilized. The Goth girl had only been gone a few minutes but already the steady cadence of the falling water drops was having its terrible effect.
She had told him the truth, he was being forced to watch his own torture! All he could see from his constrained position was the top of the ankle stock and his two big toes rising slightly above it. He watched as every second or so a new drop fell unseen to splatter onto one of the tips.
Even worse was the fact that he couldn’t see the drops coming. He could anticipate them, but each time a new one fell it seemed to come as a complete surprise. His feet would jump in turn with each new drop. After striking a toe the water would slowly trickle down the sole of his foot to tickle him unmercifully.
He now understood the purpose of the wastebaskets. The one in front caught the drops falling from the bottom’s of his heels while the one beneath the chair caught the water dropping on the head of his penis. He now also understood the purpose of the hole in the seat that allowed the water drain freely.
Unfortunately, understanding the mechanism didn’t help him very much in resisting it.
He decided that if was possible, he wouldn’t play her game. He tried to turn his head so as not to be forced to watch the torture, but the neck collar and tight hood allowed no side movement. Of course, he could always choose to close his eyes and not look, but when he tried, he quickly discovered that in complete darkness that the torture quickly intensified.
His penis was becoming more sensitive to the dripping water. When the girl had hooded him and left he was so scared that he had become flaccid. Now, with the return of the water drops his penis was quickly expanding under the constant unrelenting bombardment.
It was warm in the room and he was now perspiring freely. The water dripping from the overhead tube however seemed to be growing progressively colder. He was surprised by this fact at first, but then he reasoned that the water tube was probably connected to a sink or other source. This was a cause for concern as it was winter outside, and the horrid little drops could soon become freezing cold!
Watching the sparkling blur of the water drops as they raced down past his eyes to strike his penis out of sight below he suddenly had an idea. Drawing both of legs together he attempted to intercept or deflect the drops.
But with his ankles and big toes completely immobilized his leg movement was limited. As he tried he saw his legs came into his view, but his knees still remained several inches too far apart to stop the water drops and the effort required of his legs was exhausting.
She had planned here design only too well!
Within the span of a very few minutes, the situation had quickly become much worse. The rhythm of the water drops striking him seemed to change continually. 1-2-3--2-1-3---1-3-2---3-2-1-… His mind, unable to predict where the next drop would hit, caused his body to jerk reflexively in response to each new drop. The totality of the confinement was incredible!
His fingers and eight un-bound toes wiggled continuously and franticly. He perspired freely, whimpering softly as within the hood beads of sweat rolled down his face burning and stinging his eyes. The head of his penis had become so erect and painfully swollen that the water drops felt like small hammer blows.
From inside the leather hood he began cry, begging and pleading for mercy. He thrashed wildly in the chair, putting all his strength and effort in a single wild attempt to escape the insane torture. But his effort was futile; the device had been conceived and executed far to cunningly for him to overcome its strength.
He began scream, but the leather gag worked only too well, effectively reducing his cries to stifled mutterings. His mind knew this, but he couldn’t stop, he continued to scream again and again.
Suddenly calmness returned. The torture continued unabated, but that didn’t seem to matter any more, in his mind he had gone to someplace that was strangely calm and quiet. He realized with a smile, that again the girl had been right; he had screamed.
Now, a new power had enslaved him totally and completely. He sat calmly, oddly satisfied to be simply a helpless prisoner of the Water Chair.
A wave of total erotic rapture began to wash over and engulf him. Sitting here alone quietly in the dark and beyond any possible help he had only one thought, that of sexual release!
The desperate need to ejaculate had become a force stronger than anything he had ever felt before in his life. But he realized sadly, that it would not happen. Sexual satisfaction for him was to be exactly as the Goth girl had planned it to be…impossible!
He accepted this, and although he desperately needed the fulfillment of being able to come violently and explosively, he was content to wait within the strong arms of the chair as wave after wave of pleasure and desire washed over his body.
*
No sound had marked the girl’s return. His eyes had been closed for a time while his mind basked in the heat of erotic desire and fantasy when he suddenly, he felt the touch of her fingertips again lightly caressing the soles of his feet.
“Hi there.” She said slowly. “Still with me?
He tried to nod and failed, while unseen beneath the hood a smile had spread across his face.
“Can you hear my voice?” She asked.
“YYEEFFF” He answered.
“Good” She murmured, “I was a little worried about you.”
She removed her hand from one foot, and reaching while still lightly stroking the other sole began to gently caress the head of his penis.
“OH GOD” he yelled into the hood, “OH GOD!”
“Now I want to ask you a question” she said in her most tender voice, “Do you feel that at least in part that you’ve begun to come to terms with your true sexual identity?”
There was a long pause of silence, and then at last he nodded slightly.
Her touch continued. “OH GOD!” He said again and began to weep.
“Good…good.” She said quietly. “I knew you would.”
The combination of the soft foot tickling and her hand gently rubbing the head of his penis was unbearable ecstasy.
The Goth girl took a deep breath and said sadly; “I understand that you’ve been through a lot tonight, and I know that it hasn’t been easy for you. I also know that you’re very tired and that you need to be set free.”
He whimpered and nodded almost imperceptibly.
“And I truly realize how desperately you need to be satisfied at this moment.”
From within the tight hood came the sounds of soft crying.
“But try to understand that it is not within my character to be merciful, even to a man I find as attractive as I do you.”
The Water Chair’s victim seemed to suddenly freeze.
“For many years I have explored and have come to accept my own erotic desires. Mercy regrettably, is not among them.”
He tried to violently shake his head.
“I live here as well as work here and my bedroom is just in the next room. Perhaps later tonight I will allow you make love to me and release you from your terrible frustration. I think that you would enjoy that. I know I would!”
He waited unmoving, helpless to her slightest whim.
“But until my desire for complete torment and total control is satisfied I’m afraid you must stay as you are now, in complete bondage, a prisoner and completely helpless in my power!”
*
“I’ve taken the liberty of using one of your credit cards to purchase the Water Chair for you. I have also included in the sale the hood that you’re now wearing at an attractive used discount price. Although they may seem somewhat expensive I’m certain that you will have many years of happy use from these quality products. Thank you very much for the sale.”
“By the way,” She added, “I’m throwing in at no extra cost to you a beautiful new girl friend; namely…me!”
“Now prepare yourself for a long and very intense adventure into self discovery.”
The tickling on the soles of his feet assumed a more definitive nature as she began to use her beautifully polished fingernails.
The End
