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A site posting ladies' requests for bondage stories

Sunday 5 April 2015

Melinda's Last Night Part 8 of 9

This is a break from my usual writing situation as this is for someone that I personally know and I have also ignored one of my own writing rules. When I mentioned this particular rule, she said about could it be broken in a certain situation. After I thought about it for a while, I saw how the story could work and this is the result.

It was only after Melinda’s third orgasm that she managed to regain enough control over her emotions and she knew that the third stage of her plan would start not long after she reached the craft’s destination. There is no point in fighting against my fate, but instinct can be very powerful in some situations and if it wasn’t for the fact that I no longer have any control over what is going to happen to me, I would be heading back to shore by now. The irony is that I stole this idea from Tennyson, but there will be no people at Camelot, who will gaze upon this Lady of Shalott. Soon, the erotic feeling built up in her body again, which meant that before long all she could think about was the heat between her legs as she started to writhe in her bonds and this cycle of pleasure continued through the rest of her journey.

At one point, as the powerless Melinda roused from her post-orgasmic reverie, she was surprised at how quiet it was and it took her a few seconds to realise that the outboard engine had stopped. A glance down at the little clock on the necklace that held the keys showed that there was ten minutes to go before the start of the last stage and she started to struggle a little in her bonds, as she knew that there was very little time left. I think that I have underestimated the effect of the tide on this night, as I thought that the time would be up before I reached this location. This craft is adrift on the open sea though, and the chances of anyone finding me before this is all over must be about zero. Although the nude in chains tried to relax as best she could, she kept glancing at the little clock that almost acted at the herald of her doom and her little movements were again driving her towards the peak of pleasure.

Only two minutes to go now, and it shouldn’t be too much longer after that. Just like in other situations where a person keeps an eye on the clock, it seemed to take forever for those two minutes to pass by, but there came the moment when clock showed the appointed time. Here we go!

Nothing happened.

What is going on? Melinda thought for a moment that she might have misread the time on the clock, but another glance confirmed that the time was correct which meant that stage three should have started. Maybe the two timers could be a minute of two out of synchronisation and I may just have to just a little longer. Satisfied with this explanation, the restrained woman settled her nerves and waited for the beeping sound from a device at the rear of the boat that would start the final stage. This device was kept inactive while the outboard motor was running, because of a small electricity output socket on the motor which supplied power through a cable to the box and as this power was no longer being supplied, there should be nothing to stop the box from carrying out its task. While the lady in bondage waited for the signal, she started to squirm in her bonds and soon her level of arousal became so high that she was tipped over the edge into a state of pure bliss.

There’s something wrong, stage three should have happened by now. As soon as the chained lady roused from her state of joy, she became very worried about the fact that everything that she had done this night may have been for nothing and that she may have to return to shore. All this work and effort, just for the special timer to fail and now I will have to wait for the neck timer to activate the key release so that I won’t be discovered in the morning by a passing vessel. I am going to have to wait several hours before I can get free, so I will have to think about what I am going to do once the timer on my necklace drops the keys at my knees. Oh fuck, OH FUCK!

When Melinda looked down to her knees to see where the items would fall, she was horrified to discover just how much she had miscalculated on this one small but very important detail. Every previous time that she had placed herself in bondage like this, it was on the floor in the centre of a room or in the middle of a double bed and she used to shuffle around on her lower legs or on her side if she had fallen over. When she prepared herself this time, her knees were forced up against the inverse V shape of the inflatable pylons at the front of the craft and her bottom almost touched the centre plank.  She would only be able to move backwards a few inches at the most and even if she did this, it still would not allow her enough leeway to be able to turn around, which meant that once the keys fell they would remain out reach of her hands.

I have been so stupid, as this mistake of mine of going to cost me everything! One piece of string could have saved me from this dire situation, as I could have tied one end to the keys with the other end tied to the handcuffs that are restraining my wrists. Because of this there is not going to be a good end for me, only bad ones at best. The first option would be someone spotting me at sea and calling the emergency rescue services which would result in me being rescued, but there could be charges for wasting the time and resources of the services. Even if that didn’t happen, the story would reach the front pages of the tabloids and I have no doubt that the authorities would make sure that I wouldn’t be able to repeat this in future.

What comes next is worse, as a craft could come alongside mine and I could be transferred across so that I would be at the mercy of my captors. They could do anything that they want to me and once my traumatised and broken body is of no further interest to them, they could just drop me over the side or sell me to someone else. I could end up spending the rest of my short life begging for death.

Also, what condition I am in will depend on how soon I am found, as the next three days are going to be blistering hot with clear skies and if I am not found in time, I will suffer a lingering and terrifying death from either dehydration or heatstroke. In about a week or so, this boat will be washed up on one of the beaches and people are going to suffer from a dreadful psychological trauma when they find me. I have ruined everything by what I have done and I have placed myself in the worst situation possible.

The predicament appeared to be so terrible that Melinda started to sob as the tears welled up in her eyes and by the time that streaks started to run down her face, she had surrendered to the overwhelming despair as the bound woman wondered which fate was waiting for her, or if there was a worse one which she had not thought about. Melinda had got so caught up in the dismay for so long that she didn’t even hear the first few gentle beeping sounds coming from behind her…

What’s that? That can’t be the special timer as it isn’t working, but what else can it be? As the beeping sound continued, the woman stopped crying before she looked at the timer that was attached to her neck and she started to giggle as she realised just how foolish she had been in her preparations. British Summer Time! The clock that is attached to my neck is on British Summer Time, while the special device at the back of the boat must be on Greenwich Mean Time. It is activating one hour later than it should be because of this. I feel like such a fool for torturing myself for the last hour, as a result of me not checking that the time on the device was correct. In thirty seconds time, stage three will begin and I will go to meet Death. OMG, what’s that?

When Melinda became relieved at knowing that her situation wasn’t so dire after all, this combined with the continued teasing of her body to bring her to a state of ecstasy within a few seconds and it was during her period of rest that she half-heard the single long beep, which meant that the time had come for the final stage of her plan to comment. At least, I will be meeting Death before long, and no one will know what has happened to me. When the others don’t get a message, they will be able to use my assets for the hospice.

There was a gap of a few seconds before six special valves were opened by the device and these would ensure that the helpless woman would be sent to her destiny, while any evidence of her demise would be removed from view. It took a few seconds for her to hear the hissing sounds that came from four equidistant points on the top of the inflatable pylons, which was just before cool water was felt against her toes from the two openings that were made in the bottom of the dinghy. Thank goodness, everything is working correctly and the extra cast iron weights will make sure that this boat will sink to the bottom of the sea. If someone finds it in a few years, the weights should have disappeared, along with my cotton clothing and anything else that could be degradable which means that they will just find an unusual boat. It shouldn’t be too long before it sinks and I will be going to meet the person who has owned my heart ever since I was a child.

Melinda was feeling a little fear as the water rose higher in the little dinghy, but this was more than matched by her excitement at being able to meet the person that she had loved for so long and her lustful desire was so strong that she struggled just so that it could heighten the fire at the centre of her intimacy. She cried into her gag as her latest orgasm washed over her and her state of being didn’t even allow her enough time to rest before the next one engulfed her.

This was the situation for the helpless women with the last part of her life being an ecstatic experience and when the final one started, the small craft was so unstable that it leaned over to the starboard side, which caused her to tip into the water. Melinda surrendered to the sudden desire of breathing in the water and as the liquid filled her lungs, her last thought was one with a tinge of regret. Vivenne, it’s a pity that I won’t be able to spend eternity with Death and you…

When Mrs. Johnston and the lawyer failed to receive any more messages from Melinda, they knew that not only had she ended her life, but that she had managed to do it without causing upset to anyone else. They put the money to good use in the hospice and there was a memorial plaque put up for the lady with her image saying:

“Melinda Smith, a kind lady who was always prepared to shoulders the burdens of others and refused to burden others.”


A hundred years later, sensor equipment scanned the sea and found what was left of the craft, which was considered to be a little boat that had ended up sinking, so Melinda had ensured that no one ever discovered her fate. This was a little inaccurate, because there was one person who knew, although the term person may not be correct either…

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