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The Bondmaid Adventures - Volume 1  by Simon Grail

The Bondmaid Adventures - Volume 1  
(Simon Grail)

TBA 1 - excerpt

The Bondmaid Adventures – Excerpts


Books 1 & 2

From: “The Bondmaids of Ramswold


Confused and lost in the perverse parallel world of Nethervale, April and Niki are soon apprehended by local farmworkers, who accuse them of being “outsiders”.  They are stripped and ravished and then handed over to Gurney the Tipstaff, the local constable.  He cuffs, gags and leashes them, and then leads them naked into town…


Ramswold was a small market town.  Its high street was a mix of honey-coloured Cotswold stone with half-timbered houses, a few reaching three stories high.  Most were small shops with display windows, some bow-fronted.  There were no clear expanses of plate glass though; all had lattices of transoms and mullions holding many small panes of rather rippled greenish glass.   

Up and down the street people went about their business of the day.  Men wore varied types of frock coats with tall hats, while the women dressed in long straight ankle-length dresses with high waists, bonnets and puffy sleeves.  Amongst them were a few labourer types in stained smocks and leggings.  It felt vaguely late eighteenth or early nineteenth century, while not exactly matching anything April had ever seen before.

April had been taking all these details in out of the corner of her eye while appearing to stare fixedly at Gurney’s boots and path ahead.  She was trying to distract herself from the hateful memory of what had been done to her not fifteen minutes earlier.  Specifically she was trying not to think of the “R” word and everything that went with it and the sick fear knotting her stomach about what was to come.  Yet she was in a way calmer than she could have believed possible in the circumstances.  She was simply not being allowed to dwell on it by force of events and by everybody else’s indifference to her or Niki’s suffering.  That was brutal but she simply had no choice.  Now she was attempting to preserve her fragile equilibrium by trying to make sense of what was going on about her. 

There was also of course a practical reason to look down.  She was desperate not to stumble and tug the lash and choke herself and maybe earn another blow from Gurney’s terrible strap.  With her bottom still pulsing and stinging with heat she would have done almost anything to avoid that.  Was her fear of pain worse than the fear of the R-thing?  Perhaps it was. 

Keeping her eyes lowered also avoided making eye contact with anybody around her.  How could she look at them in her current state with whipped bottom, flushed and swollen pussy and wet thighs on blatant display?  They would know what had happened and she would see they knew and the shame would cut in and she was afraid she would lose that thin veneer of composure.  So she held her gaze fixed downward, keeping in step as best she could with Niki at her shoulder, who seemed to be bearing up reasonably well, and tried to pretend she was invisible.

It was quite futile of course.  She could feel the eyes upon her and sense the turning heads as Gurney led them along warm stone-flagged pavements.  A few passers-by nodded to him and he tipped his hat politely in return.  They looked April and Niki over with interest, as one might when encountering two naked, gagged, leashed and handcuffed young women.  Interest… but not surprise.  The reasons for this were equally apparent in the street about them, and they kept dragging April’s eyes up from the pavement in sheer disbelief.

A smartly dressed woman was consulting a list in her hand while idly leading a blonde girl along at her heel on the end of a leash.  The slave wore only a bridle-like array of straps over her head holding in a bit-gag, a silver collar and dainty soft shoes with low heels.  Her arms were held down at her sides and strapped to a wicker basket she carried rather like a backpack.  A purple bow in her hair matched the ribbons in her mistress’s bonnet.

A man, evidently a chimney sweep from the soot on his clothes, passed them leading a naked leashed black girl after him.  She was loaded down with his bundle of rods, brushes and dustsheets strapped across her shoulders.  Neatly lettered in white paint across the brown skin of her breasts, belly and back were the words: “Jos. Bott, SWEEP, 2 Knock Lane.”  She was both his beast of burden and living advertisement.  

With a clatter of wheels a small two-wheeled farm cart made its way slowly along the high street, its driver perched on the single seat idly flicking his carriage whip across the backs of his team, which comprised four naked women harnessed to the central shaft by arrays of straps and buckles.  Across their shoulders lay horse collars, evidently designed to fit their bodies.  Their sturdy thighs and buttocks swelled as they propelled the vehicle along the road.   A small detail caught April’s horrified yet fascinated gaze.  On their feet they wore leather ankle boots with wooden soles cut into high-heeled wedges, which clopped softly on the cobbles.  The shoe soles were heavily ribbed.  The angle and tread must help with traction as they leaned forward into their harness.

The cart passed by again without anyone appearing to take special notice.  It had to be an everyday sight.  How long would it take to refine details of harness and footwear like that to fit the human female frame?  Why hadn’t she seen any male slaves yet?  What was this place?

Gurney paused in front of a larger building set back a little way from the road. 

The carving above its entrance proclaimed it to be Ramswold Assembly Rooms built in 1898.  To one side of the entrance pathway was a flagged area containing a set of stocks and a sloping ramp that led up to a raised stone platform on which stood a small stone block.  Opposite this was a structure resembling the small roof set over a church lytch gate, supported by heavy black timbers at either end but open to the sides.

‘I just wanted you to see where you’ll be ending up,’ he said, leading them closer.

In the shelter of the roof hung a couple of naked slave girls.  They looked rather like puppets caught up in their strings, assuming their strings were chains, dangling so their feet were little more than a handbreadth above the ground.  They wore yoke bars across their shoulders, holding their necks level with the wrists of their upraised and crooked arms.  Similar bars with supporting stirrup straps passing under their feet held their ankles widespread.  A pair of chains from the roof beam hooked onto eyebolts in their neck yokes.  Two more chains depended from this to rings on the ends of their ankle bars, so that by keeping their legs straight they could bear their weight.  Polished metal chastity belts were locked about their waists, closing off access their groins.  More shiny metal hoops and bands served the same purpose in gagging their mouths.  Hanging round their necks were signs painted on small wooden boards that read simply: FOR SALE.  The girls twisted slightly in their chains as their eyes silently followed Gurney.

‘This is where we put girls who are going to auction on show,’ he explained, casually patting the breasts and tweaking the nipples of the two suspended girls.  ‘It lets folk get a good close-up look at them.  Inside is where the Sheriff’s Court will be held tomorrow.  You can go straight from that to be put on show.’ He tapped a small notice board fixed to one of the upright posts.  ‘And the day after is sale day.  Very neat…’


Gurney continued almost chattily: ‘Being furrin you won’t know any better, but tradition is that new bondmaids are hired out for a few weeks at a time for their first year, so as everybody whose interested can try them out and the whole village gets some use out of them.  After that they’re sold on permanently or else sent to the big monthly girlstock auction at Lockswell.’  He grinned.  ‘And they’ll treat you a lot harder there than we do here.  So if you don’t behave yourselves and give good service that’ll be where you’ll be bound!’



From: “The Bondmaids of Hardrack Hall”


Purchased from the Spreadeagle slave Tavern by Lord Debawsher, April and Niki are taken to his grand estate at Hardrack Hall, where they are put in his slave kennels, under the charge of a young groom called Dudley.  They wake the next morning inside the great kennel room…   


April and Niki were roused from their exhausted slumber by the sound of booted feet and men’s voices.  Pale grey morning light showed through high barred windows that ran down one side of the bondmaid dormitory.  For a moment they blinked stupidly into each other’s sleepy faces, trying to recall where they were, and then smiled.  Their breasts were hot from where they had been pressing against each other through the night.  The renewed awareness of their intimacy caused their nipples to swell happily.  They had a new master and a strange routine to learn, but at least they were still together.   

They drank from the spout of their kennel water bottle.  It had a ball bearing in the tip to close it off.  It made them feel like caged hamsters.

Peering out through the front of their kennel, which was to the end of the row, they saw grooms striding past.  Dudley appeared, moving down the aisle and raising the kennel doors.  Pairs of girls crawled out, dragging their chains along the recessed slots that branched into their kennels until they slid into the main channels that ran the length of their row and they could kneel side by side.

Throughout the big room they could hear the sound of grooms moving the rails of bondmaids in their charge, unhooking the canes that hung from their belts and flicking them across their bottoms.  The chain balls rattled and clinked as they slid along their tracks, accompanying the whisper of bare hands and knees on stone.  They saw columns of them passing the end of their row. When it came the turn of Dudley’s rails he formed them up into a tight line, their noses almost buried in the bum-clefts of the girls in front of them.  He flicked April and Niki lightly across the buttocks with his paddle cane: ‘You do what the others do,’ he said.

At the end of their row the metal rails turned and joined the perimeter track that ran right round the dormitory.  Dudley’s two rails of girls shuffled onto the side of the track away from the windows and headed for the middle of the room where a pair of channels branched off from the main line and turned left through open double doors into a side chamber.  Columns of girls from the other half of the room were coming in the opposite direction and turning in on a pair of branching channels from their side, so four tracks in parallel ran through the doorway. 

Dudley marshalled his girls onto the tracks in two columns of ten and they shuffled forward together.  It was like a shunting yard for carriages of naked flesh.  April felt Niki’s nose pressing between her bottom cheeks as they joined the queue, even as her face in turn was pressed into the warm cleft of the girl in front of her.  All round her were bared buttocks, pouting pussies and hanging swaying breasts capped by nipples of pink and red and brown in various stages of arousal.  For the first time she noticed how the stone flags on either side of the tracks were stained dark and polished smooth.  How many sets of bondmaid hands and knees had it taken to do that over the years?

Inside the doorway was a lower room than the kennel chamber and stone flags gave way to quarry tiles.  Their set of channels ran along on either side of a long metal trough.  The girls from the other half of the kennel room had an identical trough before them.  The trough sides were high but had scalloped slots cut in them, ten to a side.  Dudley’s rail girls shuffled along until they were each opposite one slot, then turned, lifted their heads over the trough rims and lowered them so their necks slid down the slots.  The trough was empty but looked recently cleaned.      

From a large trolley Dudley and the groom to the rails of girls opposite brought over buckets of food and poured them into the troughs.  It was porridge mixed with chopped fruit and some sort of broken biscuit.  They were expected to eat it like animals, or at least like bondmaids, which in Nethervale was much the same thing.  April and Niki had fed from troughs before and knew what it felt like.

All eyes were on Dudley so April and Niki waited in silence as well.  Twenty naked girls kneeling bent over a trough with chains dangling between their breasts and bottoms in the air waiting for permission to eat from a lad younger than most of them.  But they were his rail girls and he was in charge.  The same scene was no doubt played out a hundred times a day in here. 

‘You may feed!’ he said, and the girls dipped their heads and gulped food into their mouths.

It was not bad and was certainly filling.  Despite the torments they had been put through so far they had always been well fed in Nethervale, and Lord Debawsher could clearly afford the feed bill.  It was not down to pure altruism, of course.  He wanted them looking strong and pretty to decorate his house and grounds and entertain his guests.  They might be treated little better than animals but at least they would be fit and healthy animals. 

When the trough was literally licked clean they were moved on so another set of bondmaids could take their place.  The rails made a left turn and curved round a partition wall, doubling back on themselves, as did those on the other side of the room, taking a right turn out of sight.  April could hear splashing water and smelt a whiff of open toilets. 

The twin rails ran between low tiled walls.  Two rows of five toilet holes lined each side, with nets of dry grass hanging over them that in Nethervale April had discovered sometimes substituted for toilet paper.  The first five girls in each column took up position, turning sideways to the rails so their groins hung over the holes, squatted down and peed and voided their bowels.  There was no hesitation in performing their natural functions before each other and their groom.  Bondmaids were not expected to feel embarrassment over such things any more than animals.  As pee hissed and excreta plopped, Dudley picked up a hose with a tapering rubber spout that ran from a tap in the wall.  

When each girl was done and had wiped herself clean she lifted her bottom invitingly into the air.  Dudley came round to her and flushed out her rectum with a quick enema.  Every passage would be clean and ready to serve.  When it came to be her turn April felt only the slightest illicit thrill at voiding her wastes under the eyes of a virtual stranger.  The enema was unexpectedly of warm water and surged through her bowels and left her gasping.

The rails snaked round the end of the toilet partition wall and doubled back once more.  On the other side was a sunken section of floor with drain holes set in it.  Their guiding rails dipped and ran right through it.  Down each side was a row of five low showerheads spraying steaming water.  It was the first heated water on tap they had encountered in Nethervale.  Debawsher could clearly afford the latest thing in plumbing.  To each showerhead was chained a long-handled wooden scrubbing brush.  Large bars of coarse soap rested in trays.  While Dudley finished seeing to the second batch of girls squatting over the toilet holes, the others got on with a rapid shower and brisk wash, their chains just giving them enough slack to turn round under the jets of water.

It was like a production line, April thought.  But then each half of the washroom might have eighty girls passing through it.  She scrubbed Niki’s back and was scrubbed in return.  At least they were being kept clean.  She thought she could face almost anything if she was clean.  She suspected most women felt the same.  Did Rankin and Debawsher know that as well?  Was this apparent luxury a device to help make them better bondmaids or was it merely to satisfy his own hygienic scruples?    

Raising up out of the shower tray the rails turned back on themselves again.  In the next section an array of large towels hung from lines strung across their path, already damp from the bodies of the previous rails of girls who had passed through.  Hastily they dried themselves and then moved on again,

The next turn revealed trough-like basins with shelves above them holding wooden-handled toothbrushes a small tin.  April and Niki copied the other girls as they opened the tins and dabbing their brushes into the white powder within, brushing their teeth with it and spitting out into their basins.  It tasted of salt mixed with something herbal but it seemed to work.  Debawsher wanted his animals to have nice white teeth and fresh breath.  Every orifice had to be pleasing.

The next aisle held an array of low set mirrors with shelves of ribbons and combs beneath them.  Here the girls combed through their mops of still damp hair and then tied them back into ponytails, bunches or plaits according to length and style.  April tied her straight collar length hair back into a small tail while Niki put her longer wavy golden locks into a single loose plait.

The last turn had all twenty of them assembling in a passage empty except for a shelf with a large china jar on it.  Here Dudley said: ‘Heads down and bums up.  Pull them cheeks wide…’

April and Niki copied the others as they put their faces to the floor, raised their bottoms, reached round and pulled their buttocks wide, exposing the dark puckers of their anuses.  Taking the jar from a shelf, Dudley went along the row of them pressing a blob of clear lavender scented grease into their anuses.  The label on the jar said:  JYMPSON’S FINEST BONDMAID GREASE.  It was the ubiquitous unction in Nethervale for anointing the rear entrances of bondmaids to ensure ease of penetration.  The very idea that such a substance could be labelled and sold so blatantly had shocked April at first, but of necessity her bottom had soon come to appreciate its soothing lubricant qualities.    

Cleaned and scrubbed, flushed out, combed, dried and finally greased they were nearly ready to serve.

The rails led out of the far end of washroom through a room filled with sinister looking racks and treadmills with flails and whips hung on its walls.  Passing through another door they led back to the end of the kennel room where the windows now glowed bright with the golden early morning light.  The ranks of girls shuffled back to their kennel blocks.

‘Positions!’ Dudley called out.

In front of their respective kennels they sat back on their heels with their knees spread wide displaying their pussies.  They held their mouths open and clasped their hands behind their necks.

Dudley went down the line fitting them with their tongue curbs, locking them in place with a hex key that hung on his belt.  With her tongue sheathed and teeth wedged April looked at Niki, who forced a distorted smile.  Her lips, like April’s, were now invitingly parted with her false pink tongue tip pouting between them.  April found if she bit down hard she could close her lips sufficiently to swallow but as soon as she relaxed the pressure her jaws sprang open.  Coherent speech was out of the question.  For the rest of the day they would be dumb animals.

Dudley stood at the end of the row waiting.  April realised their labial tongues were pouting expectantly as though in sympathy with the rubber tips protruding between their lips.  Soon they heard Rankin’s voice coming closer.   He seemed to be making an inspection of the kennels.  They heard him issuing instructions followed by the jingle and shuffle of a column of bondmaids moving off.  Finally he appeared at the end of their row.  He spoke to Dudley and walked the length of the kennels, looking each girl up and down in turn.

Apparently satisfied he said to Dudley: ‘Your rails are down for house duty.  Except for the new pair.  His Lordship wants to see them tested later.  Any trouble with them?’

‘No, Mr Rankin, they’ve been fine.’

‘Put belts on them to make sure they stay fresh.’

‘Yes, Mr Rankin.’

Dudley hurried off and returned shortly with a pair of chastity belts that he locked about April and Niki’s groins.  Cuffs fastened to the backs of the belts’ waistbands he clipped about their wrists.  He shut them back into their kennel and then led the rest of his rail girls off to perform whatever duty was required of them in the house.  Gradually the kennel room emptied but for the distant sounds of cleaning up in the washroom.

April and Niki lay side by side gazing into each other’s eyes with dismal frustration.  With their tongue curbs in and wrists cuffed they could only converse in throaty grunts and with the belts on they could not even make love.  Incredible as it seemed it could hardly have been twelve hours since they had performed for Lord Debawsher in the private room of the Spreadeagle.  That was a long time between orgasms for a bondmaid in Nethervale, where lust and desire came so much more easily.  But a bondmaid’s sex life was not her own to command.  Still, April consoled herself, at least they knew they would be having sex in some form or another soon enough.  She pitied Mary and Marigold locked up in their belts for another month.  How frustrating would that be!

An hour or so after the others had left they saw a string of tired looking girls shuffling past the end of their row.  Was this the nightshift coming back to the kennels after entertaining the Lord and his guests in their bedrooms?  How soon would that duty fall to them?

They discovered it was possible to drink from their bottle with their tongues sheathed but it was very messy.  A lot of water dribbled down their fronts. 

Dudley returned to the kennel row a little later.  They watched him lay the mattresses and blankets out over the cells to air and then sweep and mop each cell and the aisle between them.  He also brought a neatly stencilled sign to slip in a holder over their kennel, which he showed them.  It had their names and collar numbers on.

‘Now you’re proper Hall rail girls,’ Dudley said.